The Dauntless
by like-waves-on-the-beach
Summary: Completely AU. Set in modern day Chicago. The Dauntless is an elite organization helping to maintain the law, stand up for the less able, and fight for justice. Divergents are the elite of the Dauntless, able to do more than the average human being. Tris has a past that can define her and debilitate her at same time. WARNING! Major Triggers inside, proceed with extreme caution!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hi, I'm new to this fandom so I hope I do it justice. Some relationships are cannon and others aren't. Characterizations – I have tried to have the characters personalities based fundamentally on the characters created by Veronica Roth, but of course, some traits are different purely to fit into my story, so don't be surprised to find some changes – remember its AU people.

This look of the Tris Prior is more like Shailene's Tris than Veronica's Tris. And Four is more Theo.

This is a re-work of a fic I previously wrote for a different fandom.

Rated M for language, violence, and sexual content.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing so don't sue me! Core characters belong, fundamentally, to Veronica Roth

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Chapter One

The music was loud and thumping as the strobe lights vibrated wildly to the beat, making the throng of people dancing flash in and out of vision. The figures moved, arms flying, hips swinging, bodies pulsating to the deep, throbbing rhythm. The air was hot and dry as sweat dripped from those dancing in the heat and the flashing lights.

The person at the center of the mass of gyrating bodies was receiving a lot of attention, both male and female. Her hands were above her head and her eyes closed as she swayed sensually to the beat that resounded around her and echoed deep in her body, seemingly unaware of the male bodies that surrounded her. She lowered her hands to pull her blonde hair away from her neck, the sweat glistening there, and she twisted it up slightly, holding it in place. She opened her eyes and flashed a flirtatious smile at the new body that appeared in front of her. She watched him intently as his eyes took in her body, and she tried hard to repress the bile threatening to escape as his hands landed on her hips. She watched as he licked his lips, and she pressed her body against his, turned her head from him slightly, her eyes searching for the figures across the room.

"She's too good at this," Will Lawson commented as he watched the blonde wrap herself around their man on the dance floor, no light visible between them.

"Why does she have to get so close?" Al Fuller moaned from his spot next to Will at the bar, drinking his _'beer'_ and wishing it had an alcoholic content to it. The owner of the club worked for The Dauntless so their beers were actually water which had been poured into beer bottles to give the illusion of beer drinking friends on a night out. Sadly, it was the only drink they were allowed to have whilst on duty. Alcohol was strictly off limits; the ramifications were expensive, and the dressing down from the boss even worse.

Will looked at Al and laughed. "Man, you've got no chance with her. Not in a million years."

"It could happen," Al lamented. "I'm an attractive, healthy, heterosexual male, and she's a smoking hot chick..."

"And there's your problem, dude," Will interrupted him. "Don't call her a chick. She'll kill you with one look and a flick of her _oh-so-delicate_ wrist."

"Ain't that the truth," Al agreed softly.

Will's gaze had never left the woman on the dance floor, and he smirked at her as she caught his look and rolled her eyes; her obvious distaste for the man she was dancing with shining through. "She's so pissed off right now. One false move from him and we'll lose our target."

"What the fuck is she wearing?" a new voice asked in anger.

"Prior," Will greeted with a nod of his head and a salute with his beer bottle. "I think that outfit came out of her _'I'm a slut; do me now'_ wardrobe."

"Fuck," Caleb cried as he signaled to Bud, the bartender, who grabbed one of the 'special' beers for the newcomer. "She'll be the death of me, ya know."

Al and Will looked appreciatively at her. The piece of sparkly cloth that served as her top was barely there, covering the essentials and leaving nothing to the imagination, held in place with only two lengths of ribbon that criss-crossed over her shoulders and across her back. Her skirt was black leather and indecently short with scandalous slits up the sides, which showed to perfection the glorious length of her slender legs. Dangerously tall, and probably very expensive, heeled shoes finished the look, accentuating her already long legs. The whole outfit was working perfectly as all eyes in the club were on her.

"I thought the plan was to blend in?" Caleb pondered, taking a quick drink of the water in his beer bottle.

"Guess she had other ideas," Will laughed. "She's incapable of _'blending in'_."

"How the hell is she supposed to work in those heels?" Caleb whined to his companions.

"Do you actually doubt her abilities?" Al asked seriously.

Will shook his head at Caleb and Al as they argued the difference between the ability to do things correctly and the art of screwing up gracefully. While Tris never failed to achieve what she set out to do, sometimes she deviated from the original mission when limitations, caused by her stubbornness and inability to stick to the rules, erupted before her. Will knew it was pure talent on her part. He straightened as he watched the guy snake his hand down to grasp a handful of her ass, pulling her closer to his lower regions, and saw her whisper something in his ear, her hand by his shoulder sending a silent signal to them.

"I think she's had enough," Will summarized, pulling away from the bar. He looked at Caleb, "Who's gonna be the boyfriend this time?"

The three guys looked at each other, each lifting a hand in the classic pose of Rock, Paper, Scissors.

Out on the dance floor, Tris's tolerance of the slime ball slobbering all over her shattered. She took a lot of crap in the line of duty, and things like this were definitely the downside. Oh, she loved the dancing, the drinking, when she could get others to buy her drinks and therefore bypass the no drinking rule, she loved the clothes, and the music. She even didn't mind the wandering hands on her body if they had the right face and the right body, but this guy was undeniably neither. She'd had enough, and her eyes wandered the club again, barely glancing over the tall body at the far end of the bar as she double checked the layout and people's positions. Then her eyes insistently returned to him. Now, he had the right face and the right body. Tall, dark hair, though in the dim lighting she couldn't determine what color. Its length brushed his shoulders and framed a face that begged to be looked at, with soft, inviting lips. A tight, fit body was enhanced by the simple black t-shirt he wore and dark jeans hid what she imagined to be strong, powerful legs. He was watching her, and she met his heated regard over the slob's shoulder.

The very air became charged with an electric wave and everything seemed to slow down. The air particles paused and the atoms that made up the atmosphere in the club stopped moving. She shivered delightfully in his scrutiny, and the man she was dancing with took this as an invitation to grab a handful of her ass. The movement broke the hold the body by the bar seemed to have over her, and the room rushed back into movement. That was it, she'd had enough, and she inched forward to whisper seductively in her prey's ear as she sent her signal to Will over at the bar. She made a mental note to return to the club later and hope the guy with the hot body was still here. She risked another look over to Will and rolled her eyes when she saw them doing the age old ritual of who was going to _'rescue'_ her. Why they didn't decide in advance was beyond her. Her eyes flickered back to the hunk of maleness further down the bar, and she tensed a little when he pushed off the bar and headed over. "Shit," she whispered.

She felt his hand wrap around her arm and pull her out of the slime's clutches. All she could think was, _Wow, now that's a big hand._

"Babe, what have I said about picking scum bags up?" he growled at her, their eyes almost level thanks to her shoes. "Threesomes only work if I'm involved in the selection process."

"Oh, fuck," Will growled quietly as he watched a tall man walk over to Tris and pull her from their target. Caleb spun to look at his sister. "What the fuck?" he hissed.

"Old bed buddy?" Al queried hopefully as Caleb took a few steps toward the dance floor.

"Caleb," Will called, stopping him. "Just wait. Let's see what she does." They turned as one back to the drama playing out on the dance floor.

Tris shook her arm out of the Neanderthal's hands. "Well, honey," she gritted through her teeth, "if you were giving me what I needed, I wouldn't need to, would I?"

Tall Guy turned to the man he'd pulled away from the babe he had christened 'sex on legs' and pushed the rejected man slightly. "Get lost, loser," he said as he pulled the girl to him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Tris asked, only slightly shocked, noticing her three guys taking a step toward her. She stopped them with minuscule shake of her head. She could salvage this situation.

"Nice mouth you've got, babe," the brute commented, and Tris smirked to him. It never failed to amuse her how guys reacted to her more _colorful_ language. They all automatically assumed she would be sweet and demure.

Tris placed her hands on his chest to push him away, she reasoned, but her fingers had their own mission as they moved slowly, feeling his muscles under the thin cotton of his t-shirt, scraping slightly against a nipple that sprung to attention.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, his own fingers dancing across the bare skin of her back and pulled her even closer to him. Tris could feel him completely as he plastered her body to his, his other hand held her face, pulling it to him, and she instinctively closed her eyes. His lips met hers with a ferocity that took her breath away as he kissed her with relish. She couldn't stop her lips from opening at his silent request and she melted against him as they tongues battled delightfully for dominance. She refused to give in and so did he as he held her head in place, not letting her move away. Her arms found themselves around his broad shoulders, one hand playing lightly with the ends of his hair where it curled slightly. She felt his lips and his tongue all the way down to her toes and whimpered into him at the pull of her womb. Eventually he pulled back, and Tris slowly opened her eyes and found herself lost in his chocolate Waters ones. She fought to regain her breath and her composure when his hold slackened.

"You wait here," he whispered, one side of his mouth curling upwards, and Tris groaned at the huskiness of his voice. She could only nod, strangely not trusting her own voice, unknowing why she wasn't kicking this guy's ass. He turned to her target. "You. Outside now."

His words spurred Tris into action. "What! No, wait," but it was too late as he turned and pushed her target out in front of him, heading for the exit.

"What the fuck happened?" Caleb called as the three men met Tris out on the dance floor.

Tris gazed in the direction her brute had taken their stolen target. "I have no idea, but I think I've either peed myself, or I'm lubed and ready to go."

"Can we discuss your sexual depravities later and try to rescue our mission?" Caleb growled as they headed as one unit out of the same exit their target had been pushed.

Out in the dark alley, Tris shivered as the night air hit her sweat-soaked body, her eyes roaming the alley for the two men. From the corner of her eye, she saw Al eyeing her. Knowing her nipples were standing to attention through arousal and the cold air, she huffed at him. "For fuck's sake, Al. Buy Playboy or something and stop ogling me."

She moved as she spotted the men wandering further into the alley as they argued, the guys following behind her.

"Please tell me you're packing something in that non-outfit," Caleb whispered in her ear.

"Do you see any likely hiding places?" she retorted, her eyes never leaving the arguing men in front of them who were still oblivious to the four's presence.

"Shit, Tris," he grumbled. "I want a new partner." His hand flashed down quickly, and he pulled a small hand gun from a holster at his ankle, hardly breaking stride. He handed it to Tris, and she slipped it in the band of her skirt in the small of her back.

"I want that one back, Tris," Caleb said.

"Sure you do, Curly," she laughed, her hand patting his cheek as they stopped a few feet from their target.

The boorish oaf, who she was sure would now fuel her erotic fantasies, turned at the sound of her voice. He scowled when he saw her with three other men behind her. "I thought I told you to wait inside for me," he growled out.

Will leaned forward slightly to Tris, "You know this guy?"

Tris stared into the eyes of the man in front of her. "Not yet," she purred with a smile.

Ever impulsive, and showing his operative immaturity, Al stepped forward, his gun pulled and aimed at the two in front of them.

"Fuck, Al," Caleb swore as the man pulled his own weapon, and then he and Will reached for theirs.

It looked like a standoff, but three guns against one were pretty good odds in Tris's eyes. Plus hers, which remained hidden for the time being.

"Back away," the body god warned, his eyes flickering as he tried to keep all the new people in his sight plus the deadbeat next to him. _Where the fuck was Jason when he needed him_? "Chicago PD," he said.

"Shit," Caleb whispered. "You see what you did with that outfit, Bea? I ought to have you mentally assessed."

"Shut up, Caleb," she hissed with a not so gentle smack to his stomach with the back of her hand.

"Guys, we've got additionals," Will acknowledge, and sure enough, out of the darkness further down the alley, three huge figures were clearly moving in their direction.

"Oh, this just gets better and better," the body god called out sarcastically.

"I like this," Caleb said with a smile and a nod of his head. "It's no fun when they're outnumbered."

The slime ball who had been pawing her in the club stood taller at the realization his back up had arrived. "Yeah, that's right. What ya gonna do now, cop?" he taunted as he backed down the alley in the direction of the new arrivals.

"Hey, Dickless," the oaf called. "I said don't move." He looked into the eyes of 'sex on legs,' and in an instant, he made up his mind and swung his gun around to 'Dickless' behind him, away from her and the men behind her.

They were now equally divided or so Dickless thought: The men in front of him versus him and his crew. Of course, he discounted the piece of ass.

Tris made a small movement of her head and sprang into action, moving with incredible speed for one in such high heels as she spurred forward and swept her leg out, hitting the backs of her fantasy man's legs, knocking him out the way as she dropped with him, holding him down as the barrage of gun fire sounded above them.

He huffed on his way down, surprised by the slip of the girl as she took him out and landed on top of him.

"Stay down," she whispered into his ear, and for a moment, he obeyed. Then he swung around, catching her unaware as he rolled them on the dirty concrete so he lay on top of her.

Tris hissed as the hard, cold ground scrapped her nearly bare back. "Fuck," she swore as god-knows-what cut into her skin.

"Not really the right time, Blondie," the man above her growled with a lopsided grin before placing a swift kiss against her lips. "Later," he added and then he jumped up to a half standing position, his gun wavering, undecided in which direction to point it.

Tris moved again, and it was a blur as he found himself pushed out of the way again by her small frame, his body slammed against the wall this time. "Keep out of the way, cop, or there won't be a later," she growled.

"Tris," Caleb's agitated voice called to her. "Put the boy toy down, and get to work."

"What's wrong, Caleb?" she teased, her body pressed against the lust-worthy man who she mentally had named _The Body God_ by the wall, her eyes not moving from his. "Need little old me to give you a hand?"

Her head turned as she heard Al call out, and she watched as he fell to the ground, holding his leg.

"Shit, Al," she whispered.

"Nice friends you've got," The Body God said with a smirk, and then both their heads swung around the other side as one of the others fell and didn't move.

"Three against two," Dickless taunted again. "I like them odds."

Tris moved away from the heat of _The Body God_ against the wall, one hand stretched out against his chest, instructing him silently to stay, as her other hand pulled the gun from her skirt and before the men could register anything, the two behind Dickless fell.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Caleb gloated with a smile as she walked over to his side, her gun trained on Dickless.

"What the fuck?" the cop growled, following her away from the wall. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Your worst nightmare," Will offered with a laugh.

"Will, call the team," Tris ordered as she advanced on Dickless. "Get Al out of here."

Will turned to his fallen partner and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

"You think you can take me?" Dickless called as he pulled another gun from somewhere, to which The Body God stepped beside Tris and pointed his own gun at the target, Caleb lining up with the Chicago police officer on her other side.

"I should arrest you all for interfering in a police matter," The Body God said to the two beside him. _'Where the FUCK was Jason?'_ he wondered again.

"I'd like to see you try," Tris smirked in his direction, her face unmoving from the target.

"Shit," Dickless said. "You're from The Dauntless. Mason sent you."

"Ding, ding, ding," Caleb called out cheerily.

The Body God looked from the young slip of a girl to Dickless and actually saw fear in his eyes for the first time that evening. The words, _'The Dauntless'_ , registering in his mind.

"You've been a very bad boy, Derek," Tris drawled in an unbelievably sexy voice as she sauntered forward to him.

Derek/Dickless actually took a step back from her.

"That money was mine," he stammered out.

"The money means jack. You betrayed a trust and took something you had no reason to take," she replied sternly. "Now we were supposed to take you in, but I think we'll just hand you over to The Body God here," she tipped her head to indicate the cop beside her. "I hear prison can be very memorable for someone like you."

"Tris," Caleb cautioned.

"Five minutes," Will called from further down the alley.

"Tell me," Tris asked steadily, "did you ever think you'd be in this position when you held that poor girl down and took away from her what you had no right to?"

"Tris," Caleb tried again, this time stepping forward to her.

"Is the money worth it now that you'll be someone's bitch for the rest of your life?" She looked at him sideways, as if pondering the situation. "Although, I doubt anyone would want you, but there are some fucked up shitters in prison, aren't there?"

She saw the motion half a second too late as Dickless pressed against the trigger of his gun, her eyes wide as she realized her grave mistake. _This is it,_ she thought, as she distantly heard the gun fire, half a smile gracing her face. Her body fell as the wind rushed out of her lungs, and she waited for the searing pain she knew accompanied a gunshot. It never came. All she could feel was blood spilling over the bare skin of her stomach and a dead weight against her. She looked down to see The Body God sprawled across her body.

"Oh shit," she called, feeling more of the warm blood soak onto her. "NO!" She rolled him off her, her hands sweeping his body until they landed in the bloody mess just below his ribs on the right side.

"Oh fuck," she cried, her hands soaked in his blood, and she reached up to his face, turning it to hers, her eyes catching his.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" she queried quietly.

Caleb was by her side in an instant and they both turned their heads at the sound of retreating feet. Tris picked her gun back up and aimed with deadly accuracy. Dickless fell without a sound, her bullet through the back of his head.

"Give me your shirt, Caleb," she demanded, and Caleb quickly complied with her order, pulling the tails from the waist of his jeans and pulling it over his head. She bunched it up and held it against the Body God's wound.

"How long, Will?" she shouted, her eyes again on the man bleeding out and struggling to breathe, her body leaning forward over his.

"Two minutes," Will called, helping Al to stand.

"Shit!" Tris lifted her head to Caleb, her eyes asking her question.

"No, Tris," he said, shaking his head. "No way, he's a cop"

"He's a dead cop if we leave him here, Caleb."

"We'll call for an ambulance."

"They won't get here in time," she shot back, her voice frantic. "Caleb, he saved my life. If he dies, his blood is on my hands." She looked down at his blood all over her hands and held them up to Caleb. "Literally."

Caleb looked back down the alley to Will and Al. "Shit, Tris. You're explaining this one to the old man."

Tris looked back down and into the depths of his eyes; they were getting darker by the moment.

"Hey," she called, her blood stained hand on his face. "Stay with me, okay? You need to stay with me if we are gonna have our later. I don't fuck dead people, ya know." She smiled when a glimmer of light entered his eyes. She heard a scurry of movement down the other side of the alley and knew the team had arrived. She glanced up and saw them rush to Al.

"Leave him, he can walk. Over here," she commanded.

They immediately obeyed her voice and ran to where she was.

"You'll be okay," she said to the bleeding man. He moved his lips slightly, and she bent closer to him, her ear to his lips.

"Tris?" he asked softly in question.

She pulled back slightly and smiled, nodding, immediately knowing he was confirming her name.

"Four," he breathed out.

"Four?" she repeated softly, her brows wrinkling slightly in confusion. _Surely that wasn't his name._

His head bobbed slightly in acknowledgment and his lips moved again. Tris leaned forward again to hear him as the medics pulled away her piss poor attempt to stop the bleeding. "I hope you've got good stamina," he whispered against her ear, and Tris couldn't stop the shiver that ran through her at the feel of his breath on her ear.

"You'd better believe it," she whispered back and kissed him gently on the lips. He smiled against her lips as his eyes drifted closed, and she sat back. She grabbed some gauze from a medic and wiped the blood from her hands as she looked down at the blood smeared on her top and the exposed skin of her stomach. "Shit, I love this top," she whined to no one in particular.

She felt arms pulling her backwards. "Tris, what the fuck have you been doing? Your back is shredded," Tori commented, her doe eyes wide.

"I'm okay, just get him into a unit," she ordered tersely.

"Rolling around on the concrete with CPD here," Caleb answered Tori's question with a cheeky grin to the small dark-haired woman.

Tori shook her head at her friend. "Jesus, Tris. You always find the most inappropriate times to play." She looked at the wound on the man on the ground. "Fuck," she said, "this is gonna be a close one."

Tris watched her friend shake her head and purse her lips in concentration as she felt another pair of hands grabbed her and lifted her from the ground.

"Here," Will said easily as slipped his shirt over her shoulders. "Let's try and keep some of that deadly bacterium out of those cuts."

"Did you at least get the target?" Tori asked as she quickly worked to stabilize the man before they could move him.

Tris turned and looked down the alley at the four bodies laid haphazardly on the ground. "Didn't quite go as planned, but yeah," she muttered.

"I called for clean up, too," Will added, watching Tori work and just as the words left his mouth, a loud booming voice called, "This just stinks of the She-Devil."

Tris turned and smiled at the huge, burley man as he bore down on her. "Gotta give you something to do other than eat all the pastries, Amar," she said with a gracious smile.

"Sweet cheeks, you always inspire me to do my best work," he returned her smile; a large gentle hand swept along her cheek as he walked passed her.

"Beatrice," a softer accented voice called. "Are you okay, malinkaya?"

Tris looked at the dashingly handsome man before her; tall, slender, with tanned skin, dark hair and an unbelievable sexy smile. "I'm fine, Vladimir, you won't lose your drinking partner that easily. I have to win my money back, remember?" she smiled.

"That I do, Beatrice. And I have a new batch which arrived this morning straight from the motherland," his eyes twinkling.

"You're on, Vladimir," she smiled back; her eyes wandering unconsciously back to the medics working on Four.

"Please, Vladimir. Let her heal before you poison her with that shit," Tori commented, standing up. "He's ready to go." Tori turned back to Tris and pulled back Will's shirt to inspect her back. "Shit, Tris, you might need time in a unit yourself."

"Yeah, okay, but after I know he's going to be fine," she agreed as they walked behind the gurney Four was laid on.

"Are you sure it's wise to bring him in, Tris?" Tori asked skeptically.

"If it wasn't for him, you'd be talking to a dead person right now," Tris swallowed. "I made a mistake, and he's paying for it. I have to help him."

"Okay," Tori backed down immediately with a smile, knowing once her friend had decided to do something, nothing would deter her. "But you're explaining it to the big man," Tori finished, not knowing that she was echoing Caleb's earlier words.

Tris nodded as she watched them place the gurney in the back of their private ambulance. She looked back down the alley to see Armen, Vladimir, and their team, prep the bodies to be removed and disposed.

That was another three deaths to add to her tally now, she knew she was still in the lead, but knowing this didn't make her want to do her happy dance. Her life was great, but the deaths were taking their toll on her. She made a mental note to talk to Jack again and soon, even though she knew it would be mandatory after this evening's mission. She smiled when Al hobbled past her and was helped into the back of the ambulance.

"You owe me some porn, Prior," he called to her as the doors shut.

"Whatever, Al," she laughed as Caleb and Will came up beside her, both in just their undershirts.

She slung an arm around each of their shoulders.

"Now, _that_ was a rush," she grinned. "You can't deny you have a buzz going on right now," she continued, looking side to side at both of them. "Who's buying?" she asked as they walked down the sidewalk, the boys each putting an arm around her waist, mindful of the deep cuts on her back.

"I believe it's your turn," Caleb said.

"Do I look like I have money on me?" she asked with a smile.

"Shit, Tris. Where's my gun?"

Tris just smiled at him as they climbed into a SUV that was waiting for them.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow, thanks so much for the follows and reviews. It means a lot to me that you guys take the time to read what I write, and to leave a review is just a cherry on top of an awesome sundae.

I realize this chapter may confuse you with its descriptions of the main characters. They are a strange blend of Veronica's characters and the actors who play them. Also, just to warn you, this is a long chapter so if I haven't used my words effectively, and it's a little confusing, please PM me I will try and clear any uncertainties.

A couple of shout out/replies to some guests reviewers before we start:

CynDLou12 – Thanks for your review. Tris is most definitely badass in this fic but she will have moments of meekness and being weak. Keep reading!

Shanah – Thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope you like the rest of it.

Guest – Glad you enjoyed the first chapter, hope the rest doesn't disappoint.

All other reviews I will reply by PM

This is a slow-burning, long fic, 177,930 words so far and still going strong, so please stay with me folks.

Happy Thanksgiving to all those who participate in turkey day! Hope you all have a fun holiday.

And so… enjoy.

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Chapter Two

Tris smiled appreciatively at the feel of the soft sheets against her bare skin as she drifting up into consciousness from a deep sleep. It had been an extremely long night and after two hours in a unit, she had demanded to be released. She hissed a little as the silk caught on the remaining unhealed wounds on her back and she knew could use another few hours in a unit, but first she needed to check on Four. She slipped from her bed and walked over to her closet, her hand wandering down to pat her ever faithful dog, Jacob, as he followed her dutifully. She found a button down, pale blue shirt with short sleeves and pulled it on, forgoing a bra; her wounds even protesting against the soft silk of the shirt. Matching this with a pair of white shorts she slipped into them with ease. A simple pair of pale blue and white converse shoes finished her casual outfit: she was nothing if she didn't co-ordinate well. She washed her face and brushed her teeth quickly before running a brush through her long blond hair. She looked at her image reflected in the mirror before her, chewing on her bottom lip unconsciously as she focused on her eyes, staring into them as if to see deep within her soul.

 _Life wasn't so bad, right?_

She tried to be good, to be selfless, to be respectful of others, to be the person to make her parents proud. It was just sometimes, something within her didn't want to live by those rules, the rules of her parents. Her soul cried out for something different, for adventure, for danger, for a life on the edge. Was that something she'd been born with, that part of her that made her different from everyone else, that made her dangerous, or was it something she had nurtured with time after…

She shook her head, refusing to think about anything depressing, or morbid, or to do with her parents, and wrenched her gaze way from the mirror and abruptly left her room.

She walked through the corridors of the huge house with ease, smiling and greeting the people she met along the way, determined to brush away her earlier thoughts. She was well known here, this was her home as it was to many who are part of Dauntless: some there because they had no other option and others, like her, out of choice and loyalty. She looked at the long winding bannister which skirted the impressive marble staircase and resisted the urge to sit on the polished dark wood and slide to the bottom. Instead, she walked down the stairs with a bounce in her step. At the bottom she looked down to Jacob at her heels and his eyes followed her hand as she pointed to a door which was open to the outside. He obediently followed her silent command and trotted through the opening.

She set off down a corridor, stopping short when she came up to the kitchen. She quickly glanced into the huge room, its stainless steel appliances gleaming against the teal-colored cabinetry, her gaze nervous as she looked around for the cook, Gregory. Not seeing him, she silently stole further into his domain, a sly smile forming on her lips. She hunted through his well-stocked pantry and clapped with glee when she found her prize: A box of S'more flavored Pop-Tarts. She quickly pulled a foil packet from the box and headed for the toaster.

"You carry on eating those, chérie, and you'll be the size of a cow," Greg scolded as he rounded a corner in the vast room. Greg was the kind of person you could see once, think _wow_ , but easily forget him. At 5ft 11 he was tall enough to make a statement, his hair was jet black and always sticking out at odd angles, his facial hair was there but sparse, as though it couldn't be bothered to grow in properly. His eyes were his most defining feature, a striking clear blue that reminded Tris of the Caribbean Sea. He worked out but not to the point of having heavily ripped arms, just enough to have muscle that bulged when he lifted heavy objects.

Tris guiltily held the sweet pastry behind her back. "But I missed breakfast," she pouted.

"Tris, do not pull that pout with me, you have no power over me remember," he smiled at her.

"Gay men suck," she said with a bigger pout.

"That we do," Greg smiled at her.

"Beast," she laughed.

Greg laughed with her as he pulled the packet from her hands. "And if you think I'm going to let you near any of my appliances again, you're as deluded as you are beautiful."

 _Beautiful._ She hated that word. It was something she hardly ever attached with herself. She had been a typical child, all arms and legs almost like a baby deer, and clumsy beyond belief. Her face average at best, and never thought as anything other than ordinary. Until she hit eleven, then things had changed, she grew into her body, her features soften, and by the time she was fourteen, she was considered an unconventional beauty.

Sometimes, when she was at her most vulnerable, she wished she was that unassuming child again.

Tris kissed his cheek and settled onto a stool by the breakfast bar that was hardly used. The members of Dauntless tended to eat in the large dining room that had been set out like a cafeteria.

"So, I hear you brought us a delectable specimen home from your last excursion," Greg probed as he popped her pastry into the toaster and then he poured her a cup of coffee, bringing her thoughts back to the conversation.

"Yes, I did," she said with a lazy, wistful smile, thinking of the man still resting in a unit and the main object of last night's dreams. She took her coffee gratefully, watching Greg with a steady gaze. "Hands off, buddy. That body is mine," she declared evenly.

"Staking your claim early, chérie," he replied with a pointed look.

"Absolutely," she answered taking the small plate from him with her Pop-Tarts on. "He saved my life and he deserves my gratitude. And I plan to thank him over and over again," she added with a sexy grin.

"You go for it, girl," Greg responded with his own smile and a wink.

"You know I will," she agreed, taking a much needed drink of her java. "Plus, he needs to help me work off all the Pop-Tarts I eat. Apparently, I'm getting fat!"

"Chérie, if there is an ounce of fat on your body, I'll fuck a nun," Greg said straight-faced.

"Nice imagery, Greg," she drawled with a wrinkle of her nose as she finished her coffee. "What's for dinner tonight?" she asked.

"I haven't decided yet," Greg mumbled, pulling a recipe book from a shelf.

"Oh, oh," she gushed, bouncing a little on the stool. "Lasagna please," she begged with a smile, "with your special sauce."

"Tris, I think the others are fed up with lasagna," he laughed.

"But I could have died last night," she lamented, not realizing the pout was back.

"That pout has too many outings, Tris. You're a spoiled brat, you do realize this," Greg commented, putting the book back.

Tris laughed as she jumped from the stool, her other Pop-Tart in her hand. "I'm not spoiled, I'm well loved," she countered. "And I'm 23. I'm not a child anymore and I haven't been for a long time."

Greg caught her before she left the kitchen, her chin in his hand. "You will always be a child, Chérie. The child of our hearts," and he kissed her on the lips. "Now scram, you brat," he laughed, slapped her ass as she left the kitchen.

By the time Tris arrived at the medical center, an addition built onto the back of the sprawling mansion, she had finished her other Pop-Tart. She pulled open the double doors that led inside, smiling at a young medic on her way through to Tori's office.

She walked straight in to see Tori sitting behind her desk, tapping rapidly on the keyboard to her computer.

"Hey, Tori," Tris called out cheerfully. "Have you even had a break?"

"Yes, Tris," Tori answered, her eyes not moving from the computer screen. Tris looked over to the small cot Tori kept in the corner of her office.

"I mean in a real bed," Tris clarified. "Preferably a man's bed, with said man in it," she added with a smile.

Tori stopped typing and looked over to the younger girl. Tris was a few years younger than her, but way older in many ways. "And how would that lead to me taking a break?" she asked.

"Well, it's a good way to unwind and relax," Tris grinned and wiggled her eyebrows to her friend.

Tori shook her head with a smile and turned back to the computer and started typing again.

"Still no luck with Zeke, huh?" Tris probed with a gentle smile.

Tori sighed and stopped typing again, this time turning her chair to face Tris where she was perched on her desk.

"I don't know, Tris, I just don't understand him. One moment he's all hot and passionate and…"

"Ripe for jumping?" Tris supplied hopefully, her eyebrows rising.

"Yes," Tori said with a smile. "And other times it's like he's on another planet."

"Men can be dicks, Tori, big dicks," Tris stopped. "Actually, the bigger the better," she finished with a huge smile.

"Tris," Tori warned.

"Strike that," Tris continued, not hearing Tori. "Size doesn't matter, it's how it's used that matters."

"Tris," Tori tried again, shaking her head a little at her odd friend.

"No, forget that, size does matter," Tris finished.

"Are you done?" Tori asked, her eyebrow rising in question and a smirk on her face.

"Yes," Tris answered with a nod and a cheeky smile. "Back to Zeke!"

"Okay," Tori began, scooting her desk chair a little closer to Tris. "It's like I'm getting all these signals from him…"

"Vibes," Tris interjected with a double shake of her shoulders.

"Okay, vibes, whatever. Tris, will you just shut up and let me finish," Tori said with exasperation.

Tris nodded.

"Right, so I'm getting these _vibes_ and all but when I try and implement...,"

"Implement, who the fuck uses the word implement," Tris interrupted her again, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

Tori narrowed her eyes at her annoying friend. "Me, I do." Tori sighed deeply. "When I try to progress things, he shuts down and I'm left with nothing."

"Nothing but a serious itch that needs scratching," Tris huffed.

Tori rolled her eyes at Tris. "So what am I supposed to do? I can't just tie him down and take advantage of him."

"Some people like that, Tori. For all you know he's just waiting for you to come at him with a pair of handcuffs, a whip, and wearing nothing but a wicked smile," Tris paused as Zeke Pedrad jumped into her mind. "Never mind, forget that. Zeke would die from shock if that happened."

"Tris, your sexual escapades scare me," Tori said with a laugh.

Tris looked sideways to her friend. "Who've you been talking to?" she asked with seriousness.

Tori laughed as she shook her head.

It was good to hear Tori laugh, Tris decided, her job was too stressful. She had the whole Dauntless to take care of medically, under the watchful eye of their top-notch doctor, Dr. Johanna Reyes, and they sure stretched their abilities at times.

"Okay," Tris said after Tori had stopped laughing, "what we need to do is to make Zeke wake up and see the hot babe."

Tori looked confused. "Me!" she exclaimed, pointing to herself.

Tris shook her head at Tori's refusal to admit she was a hot looking woman. Her dark hair was to die for, cascading in waves down her back, the occasionally thin braid thread through her locks adding a free spirit vibe to the serious persona she usually radiated. Her eyes were almond shaped, adding a sense to mystery to the dark pools. She was slim, worked out, and was one of the most compassionate people Tris had ever met.

"Of course, you fool. You know, for someone so intelligent, you're shockingly dumb at times." Tris grinned.

Tori began to shake her head as Tris continued. "Flirt with someone else, go on a date with someone else."

"I don't know, Tris," Tori mumbled, her face very skeptical.

"Come on, there's plenty of bodies around here, most of them will be willing and, hopefully able, and if you don't want them we'll go out and find you a new body to jump," Tris smiled. "It's been ages since we had a girl's night out."

Again, Tori laughed at her. "Tris, we had a girl's night out two days ago!"

"God, was it that long ago?" Tris asked dramatically, her eyes wide.

"Don't you remember Paolo?" Tori quizzed between her laughter.

"Ah, Paolo," Tris smiled blissfully to Tori. "Now that was a body that just begged to be jumped."

They looked seriously at each other before they both laughed.

"Okay, talking of bodies, how's mine doing?" Tris asked.

"Well," Tori said as she stood and walked over to her filing cabinet and pulled a file folder out. "You could probably do with a few more hours in a unit. Those cuts were pretty deep."

"I wasn't talking about _my_ body," Tris elaborated with a roll of her eyes. "I was talking about _the_ body." She gestured with a hand through the double doors where the units lay.

"Oh,' Tori smiled and moved to picked up another folder.

"Hey," Tris said, jumping off the desk and walking over to join her. "Is that my file?" she asked, leaning over Tori's shoulder. "What shit does it say in there? Are my psych exams in there?"

Tori quickly shut Tris's file. "No, Tris. This is just your medical file. You know, your body medical file, not your psych file, because that shit would make even me run for the hills."

"Ain't that the truth," Tris said with a sad smile.

"Ok, so back to _'The Body'_ ," Tori continued, quickly securing Tris's folder away in the cabinet. She wasn't working for the Dauntless when Tris was first brought to them, but she had read her file along with everyone else's when she had been assigned to work directly under Dr. Reyes who headed the medical unit. Tris's file had given her nightmares for weeks and earned her several trip's to Jack's office, the resident psychiatrist. The thought that one person could take so much abuse and still live the life Tris did was awe-inspiring to Tori.

"I actually think he's prefers to go by Tobias, not the body," Tris informed Tori as she looked through the windows in the door to the room that housed the units.

Tris's eyes crinkled in confusion. "He told me his name was Four," she said with distraction, her gaze landing on the part of him she could see: his head.

"Well, our file says his name in Tobias Eaton," Tori assured her. "And you know our research guys never make mistakes."

Tris shook her head, trying to clear the questions already building in her mind as she turned back to the older woman. "So, what can you tell me?"

Tori pushed open the doors and together they walked into the room. The area was large and the walls and floor a deep gray marble and cold to the touch. Tris had intimate knowledge of that fact as when you were in a unit you are butt naked and when you get out, the floor was bitching cold to sit on naked and to walk on without slippers or shoes.

The room housed what they called units, which looked like sunken bathtubs without faucets. Once a wounded body was placed in the tub a warm liquid surrounded them, filling from the bottom of the unit. The water then hardened and cocooned the body, leaving only the head free to breathe. In its solid form, ithad a healing property a doctor of Dauntless had created 10 years ago. What was in the gunk Tris wasn't sure, and it made her head ache when she thought about it. It could heal most wounds as long as they were in the units in time. They had 12 units in total, but they rarely were all used. In fact, Tori had an inclining that apart from when the agents were in training, Tris was the one who used the units the most. During the training period, everyone was in a bath at least once a day for a few hours.

"His name is Tobias Eaton and he's a cop from Chicago Police Department."

"I knew most of that, Tori," Tris said with a smile.

"He lives in Des Plaines, he's 26, and his father recently died," Tori continued.

Tris nodded to show she was listening.

"His work record is pretty impressive; nine times out of ten he always gets his man. Apart from that, and old medical records, that's all I have at the moment."

They came to a stop by the unit that housed the man Tris owed her life to and she looked down at his almost serene face.

Tori gazed at her friend with interest. She knew his man tugged at something within Tris. The younger girl wouldn't have insisted on bringing him back with them if he hadn't, she wouldn't have risked everything they were, what the Dauntless represented; she would have trusted him to the local hospital.

"Tris, I get the feeling the higher-ups know more about him than I do," Tori divulged.

Tris looked sharply at Tori. "Higher-ups, as in as high as you can get?"

Tori nodded. "And you know you've got some explaining to do to them."

Tris nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, I'm expecting my summons as soon as they realize I'm awake."

"And don't _forget_ your appointment with Jack this time," Tori added, knowing Tris hated her sessions with Dr. Jack and always tried to be elsewhere when they came up.

"I won't, **Mom** ," Tris teased with a smile. She bent down to Four, asleep in the unit, her fingers brushing through his hair just so she could feel its strands. She drank in his defined features: a smooth forehead, a strong jawline which was covered with a smattering of facial hair, his skin tone naturally tanned indicating maybe a Mediterranean heritage. Curling over his shoulders were black lines of tattooed ink, a couple close to his neck, and more over his shoulders and upper arm. Tris followed the lines back over his shoulder and saw a glimpse of more art; spikes up the back of his neck and the others merging into a complicated design which disappeared down into the solidified mass encasing him; healing him.

"We needed to give him a sedative for while he's in there," Tori explained. "He woke in the night and nearly killed Molly trying to get out, despite the fact he's injuries are far from healed."

Tris nodded again. "He will be okay, though?" she asked looking up at Tori, her concern evident in her eyes.

"Yes, Tris," she smiled. "It won't be long until you can have your wicked way with him."

"Good," Tris answered simply. "I owe him a good, long, hard fuck."

"Only one?" Tori asked with a laugh.

Tris tipped her head, her eyes wandering over his soft lips. "How long do you think we could hole up in my room before they send the search parties out?"

Tori faked concentration. "At least a couple of days," she replied in all seriousness.

Tris sighed deeply. "Then that will just have to do." She looked back up at her friend. "You could always use your powers and say I need bed rest for a week."

Tori laughed. "And how much 'bed rest' would you actually be getting?"

Tris grinned wickedly. "Hopefully none."

They both laughed.

Tris looked over to another unit which held Al earlier. "How's Al doing?" she asked.

"He'll be fine. He's back in his room sleeping, I hope,"

"One can only hope," Tris remarked with a snort.

Tori shook her head as she looked down at her friend. "For Christ's sake, Tris, what made you wear a silk shirt," Tori exclaimed. "You know blood is almost impossible to get out."

Tris looked over her shoulder to see blood seeping through the shirt from wounds that had obviously reopened.

'Oh shit!" she cried, standing up. "Do you think Marlene will be able to work her magic with this?"

"I don't know, Tris. Remember the last time you asked her to get blood out of one of your dresses."

"Oh yeah, that was my favorite dress as well," she sighed with a sad smile.

"You need to get back in a unit," Tori instructed. "Another couple of hours and you'll be fine."

Tris sighed as she stood again, relenting to Tori's orders, and then stopped. "Hey, do you think it would be better for me to face the boss with my blood on show. It might make him take pity on me and not throw me to the wolves."

Tori turned and walked back to her office, knowing she had lost Tris again. It would be another couple of hours before she would be able to get her back in a unit, she just hoped the cuts didn't start to heal; scars were harder to remove.

"What the hell were you thinking away: rolling around in broken glass?"

"Hey, that was entirely his fault," Tris told Tori, tipping her head back in Four's direction. "I was on top at first."

Tori stopped, her hand on Tris's arm, forcing her to stop to. "Please don't tell me you were having sex out in that alley."

"No," she sighed sadly, as they continued back to the office. "Nothing as remotely that entertaining. Only saving his life."

As they entered, Tori's office the phone rang. "Forget it," Tori laughed, walking over to her desk. "I don't want to know." She picked up the receiver. "Wu."

Tris walked around Tori's office, listening to one side of the conversation and guessing it was the boss looking for her. She eyed the filing cabinet that housed her file and her fingers itched to open it and look, but she knew Tori was watching her every move. Tris turned back to Tori when she said, "I'll let her know," and hung up.

"Was that my call?" Tris asked.

Tori just nodded.

"Okay, it can't be that bad can it. I'm a Prior after all," she said as she walked to the doors that led out of Tori's office and out of the building.

Shaking her head, Tori laughed a little. "That excuse will only hold out for so long, Tris.'

"Yeah, I know," Tris said dejectedly. "And I think I've already used up my quota for this year."

"For this year! Shit, Tris, try for a lifetime," Tori teased with a smile. Her friend just couldn't help getting into trouble.

"Tris," she called. "Please come straight back or I'll send someone to find you."

"I will," Tris answered as she opened the door. "And after the Eaton Body is up and about, we'll have our night out," she added with a smile.

"Sure we will," Tori laughed disbelieving. "It will be at least 48 hours before we see you again after Tobias gets out from the unit."

"At least," Tris agreed with a smile as she left.

Tris stood outside the large wooden doors which led to the grand library. Post-mission meetings always took place in this huge room, Dr. Jack assuring the boss it was better to create a calming, relaxed environment for the often harsh business of debriefing.

"It's easier to talk when you're all in the same room," a gruff voice said to her left.

Tris turned her head and smiled to Josh, a large, formidable man who could intimidate the fiercest bouncers. He was a tall guy with lightly tanned skin, a bald head, and bulging biceps. He always stood guard during the debriefings, so no poor, unsuspecting person could wander in and hear things they shouldn't. It was the only time the library was off limits.

"How about I tell you what happened and you let them know," she offered, as she flashed him her most beguiling smile.

"Not gonna happen, Tris," Josh retorted as he returned her smile.

"What kind of mood is he in?" she asked, her voice small and her eyes flickering to the door, her apprehension shining through.

"Do you want me to tell you the truth or lie through my teeth?" Josh questioned.

Tris thought for a minute. "Lie to me."

"It's all sunshine and roses in there."

"Thanks, Josh," she said with a smile.

"Shit, Tris, you do know you're bleeding all over that shirt, right?" Josh asked, concern in his voice as his large hand rested gently on her shoulder, turning her slightly so he could see the damage better.

"Really?" she replied with fake surprise. "Maybe I should go see Tori." She patted her hand on Josh's chest. "Be a pal and tell them I'll be back later."

"Tris, get your cute ass in there," Josh ordered and opened the door before she could reply. "Miss Tris, Sir," he announced formally.

"Traitor," she whispered with a sly smile as she slid passed him and entered the room.

The library was usually her third most favorite place in the house. The first being her bedroom and the second the music room, but she seriously hated the library on debriefing days.

She walked to the large oversized chairs and sofa that were always in place by the fireplace. Caleb was seated at the near end of the couch, his brown hair wet, and Tris absentmindedly thought he needed a trim. His features were similar to hers, though he favored their mother more than she did. His eyes held their green color, not like hers that seemed to switch with her mood. His nose suited his face and his chin was clean-shaven as usual. He was tall, maybe hitting 6ft 4, but he looked at ease in the large couch. You could easily think he was a little on the puny side, his size hiding his muscle. But he was like her: deadly when he needed to be.

Will was beside Caleb, handsome in a _boy-next-door_ way, and clueless to his easy charm. His dark hair was glossy and model perfect. His face had a maturity his years lacked, but it was honest. His eyes were a bourbon brown and had a strange way of getting a person to open up when questioned by him. His frame reflected his training, toned and muscled. His natural intelligence and thirst for knowledge often had him sprouting information that was neither asked for nor appreciated, a trait Tris found both endearing and annoying at the same time. He had proven time and again to be a good friend, a staunch companion, and an almost brother to Tris.

Al was the last agent on the couch. Taller than Will but not as tall as Caleb, Al was the kind of person who hid from his height, slouching his shoulders almost as if he was ashamed. He tended to be fragile and uncertain, which often became a problem as when he tried to compensate it usually led to him being impulsive in a way that resulted in somebody being hurt. He was a mass of muscle, strong and tough, probably one of the top fighters Dauntless had. His heart was good and he hated to see a person in distress: a real champion for the underdog.

Amar, Doc Johanna, and Dr. Jack were all in attendance as well, meaning Tris was late. Again.

"Am I late?" Tris asked, trying for innocence.

"Aren't you always," Caleb quipped.

"Fuck off, Caleb," Tris said sharply.

'For Christ's sake, will you two stop acting like children," a deep voice doomed.

"Sorry, Uncle Mason," Caleb said, with a cheeky grin at Tris.

"Tris, will you please sit down so we can begin," Mason Prior instructed.

Tris smiled sweetly at her uncle and took a seat beside her brother on the large sofa. The sofa was huge, so all four of the active agents were able to sit with ease. Mason Prior sat in one of the arm chairs, with Doc Johanna in the other. Amar waited for Tris to sit and then he perched on the rolled arm of the sofa beside her. Dr. Jack was over by a desk, to listen and take notes, which he used in his private sessions with the agents. The only other occupant in the room was Edward Harrison, Mason's personal assistant who always attended the meetings to record what was said.

"So, what happened last night?" Mason asked and all the people in the room turned to Tris.

Tris closed her eyes and wished someone would look at her back and take pity on her. She opened them to see all other eyes on her. _Typical,_ she thought.

"Well, we had the target on track, and things were working as planned," she started.

"Until Tris's outfit caught the attention of CPD," Caleb interjected, all too eager now Tris had started.

"That's a load of crap, Caleb," Tris snapped.

"I think her body might have had some effect, too," Al added in an attempt to help.

"Which wouldn't have been a problem if she had more clothes on," Caleb retorted, glaring at Al. Of course he'd take her side, he was led round by his dick and he'd been trying to bury it in his sister ever since he stepped foot into the house.

"My clothes are not the issue," Tris insisted with a degree of agitation. "I was dressed exactly as I should have been."

"Moving on, Tris," Mason instructed calmly.

"So, I was on the dance floor with the target when Four…," Tris was interrupted by her uncle's hand in the air.

"Four?" Caleb laughed. "What kinda name is that?"

"That's what he told me his name was," Tris spat out.

"Four is the cop I take it?" Mason asked for clarification.

Tris looked at her uncle. Of course he knew that, why did she need to say it. "Yes."

"And did you know this cop before last night?" he questioned her, his eyes narrowing.

"No," she answered evenly.

Mason rolled his hand in indication for her to continue.

"Four pulled me away from the target while these three dicks were trying to decide who should intercede, which they should have decided beforehand," she said, sending them her signature hard, pissed stare.

"By the time they got to me, CPD had sent the target out the club," Tris finished.

"After trying to taste what you had for breakfast," Caleb huffed. "And you did nothing to stop him."

"He surprised me," Tris declared in her defense. She looked at her uncle and continued when he didn't say anything. "By the time we had left the club, the target and CPD were talking in the alley. Things might still have gone more smoothly if Dick number three over there," she indicated to Al at the opposite end of the sofa, "hadn't pulled his gun."

All heads swung to Al and he suddenly became interested in a thread on his jeans.

"So, then three of the targets men arrived and things got a little hairy," Tris continued. "I dropped CPD so he wasn't in the line of fire, which is why I have these wounds on my back."

"How did you get wounds to your back if you dropped him, Tris," Doc Johanna asked in her gentle voice.

Tris shrugged. "He didn't want to stay down; there might have been a little rolling."

"Should have had a camera, porn is a lucrative business, ya know," Caleb interjected with a wide grin, nodding to Will for confirmation.

Tris wacked him, hard, on his arm.

"Ow! Shit, Tris," Caleb cried out. "I bruise easily, ya know."

"Oh, poor little baby," she drawled sarcastically, pinching his cheek. "Have you seen my fucking back?"

"Tris!" Mason bellowed sternly. "Ladies do not cuss."

"There's a lady in here?" Caleb joked, looking around the room.

"Caleb!" Mason reprimanded in the same tone of voice he'd used on Tris.

Caleb and Tris exchanged quick grins, enjoying their moment of childishness.

"Moving on," Mason said.

"So, I got CPD out the way again, when Al was shot in the leg," Tris explained, her voice serious again.

"And I shot body number one," Will added with a smile, pleased he had taken at least one of the other men out, and the only one of the guys to get a solid hit that night.

"So then Caleb got all pissy," Tris picked up from Will with a smile.

"Because you weren't doing any work," Caleb turned to his sister again with a sardonic grin. "You were having a party against the wall with CPD and discussing when you were gonna fuck."

"I was not," Tris cried indignantly, and then she offered a sly smile. "We'd already discussed that."

Mason shook his head at his niece.

"I was trying to keep him out the way," she continued. "But, like I said, Caleb got all pissy."

"Then what happen?" Mason quizzed.

Tris just shrugged. "I shot the other two bodyguards so that just left the target."

Mason looked to Amar and he nodded, confirming the two other bodies were killed by the gun Tris had been using.

"Might I point out Tris had to borrow one of my guns? Again," Caleb interrupted, with his eyebrows raised. "Because she couldn't conceal a gun in her chosen outfit."

"Hello! I had to attract the dead beat somehow, and the more skin you show, the better it works," Tris reasoned.

Mason sat thoughtfully for a minute before turning to Edward. "Make a note for me to speak to Matthew about making something for Tris so she can always carry a gun, no matter what she's wearing."

Caleb laughed. "Yeah, good luck with that, Uncle Mason."

Mason leveled his eyes on his nephew, to which Caleb turned to Tris and raised his eyebrows, eagerly waiting her next comments.

Tris squirmed a little in the comfortable sofa and looked back at Caleb, silently begging him to continue, but he just smiled at her, his eyes twinkling, not giving her anything.

"I made a mistake," she said quietly, her eyes shooting down to her knees. "Four seemed quite impressed with my marksmanship and after a taunt or two, the target realized who we were." She shifted and looked at Caleb again, and then shook her head when she realized she wasn't getting any help from him.

"I might have goaded him a little, scared him I think, and I didn't notice him pull the trigger before it was too late," her voice had dropped slightly, barely above a whisper, her eyes now on the luxury rug in front of the open fire.

She looked up in the silence and noted her uncle looking at her intently.

"Go on, Tris," he encouraged tenderly.

"I fell, expecting to feel the bullet, but it never came," she paused, her eyes on the rug again. "That's when I realized Four had pushed me out the way and had taken the hit."

She looked up to see her uncle nod to her. "And who's decision was it to bring him here?" he asked, though she knew he already knew the answer.

"Mine," she said quietly. "Caleb was against it, but Four saved my life, Uncle Mason." Now she pulled put the big guns. She hardly ever called him uncle during a debriefing. This was business not family, though Caleb never had a problem addressing him as such. "I couldn't just leave him there to die in a dirty back alley. An ambulance would have been too late."

She paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "It was my decision; this was my outfit, my mission and I take full responsibility." She looked at her uncle, firmly holding his gaze. "And I don't regret it one bit. Like I said: He saved my life."

Mason just nodded at her. Then he leaned over to the small table beside him and pulled a file folder toward him.

"We have learned from our sources at C.P.D that Detective Eaton had been tailing our target for a couple of months. We have come to the conclusion he knew nothing of your mission and it was purely coincidental his own operation was coming to a head last night. Of course, we can't clarify this until Detective Eaton wakes up." Here Mason turned to Doc Johanna. "Do we have any idea when that is likely to happen?"

"Well, he already fought the original sedative we gave him, so we had to administer another. Maybe another 24 hours at best. Then we'll re-assess his wounds to evaluate if he needs further time in a unit."

Mason nodded before turning back to the agents on the sofa, namely his niece. "Then we'll just have to see if Detective Eaton would like to join our organization."

Tris swallowed nervously. "What if he doesn't?"

Mason actually smiled at her. "He might need an incentive to stay."

Tris returned his grin with one of her own, silently thinking, _God, I hope he needs an incentive._

"I hope that in all this mess, the target was actually taken out?" Mason asked, getting back on track.

"Yes, sir," Tris confirmed.

"Good," Mason said with a nod. "So, despite the fact that we almost lost a target, almost lost an agent, and gained a wounded cop, the mission was completed."

"Yes, sir," she repeated.

Mason nodded again. Then he turned to Amar. "How did the clean-up go?"

"Clean," Amar answered simply. "Four bullets removed; confirming one kill to Lawson and three to Tris."

"Using my gun," Caleb reiterated, his hand half in the air as if taking credit.

"Yes, thank you, Caleb," Mason said sharply to his nephew before looking back at Amar. "And the bodies?"

"Disposed," Amar smiled. "I know the original plan was to leave the target's body to be found, sans bullet, but since we had no clue how much of Tris was on the body…"

"EWWW" Tris cried, interrupting Amar, her nose wrinkling in disgust. "I barely touched him."

"Good job you can't get prints from nipples," Al mumbled.

"My nipples were perfectly under control," she huffed, shooting Al an annoyed stare. "Until I was pawed by CPD anyway," she added with a shrug.

Amar placed his hand on Tris's shoulder. "As I was saying, we had no idea if her _finger_ prints were on the body, so we disposed of the body with the others."

"Thank you," Tris smiled up to him and Amar squeezed her shoulder affectionally. Unfortunately his fingers brushed against one of her wounds and she hissed at the pressure.

"Sorry, sweet cheeks," he apologized quickly.

Mason looked over at his only niece and sighed. "Let's get this finished up so Tris can return to a unit," he ordered. "I have research looking into Detective Eaton's background. There is something niggling at me about him and I'll be more settled when we have all the facts."

He looked at the faces around the room. "Okay, I'm closing this de-briefing. Jack, who would you like to see first?"

"Well, I'd really like to take Tris first but her health is more important at the moment, so I'll take Will, then Al, then Caleb." It was always a toss-up who he saw first; the wounded or the shooters. He turned to Tris. "You come find me when you're out. And I mean it Tris; don't make me hunt you down again."

"Okay," she confirmed simply.

"I'll see you afterward, Tris," Mason added.

"Okay, Uncle Mason."

Mason stood, indicating the meeting was over. "Thank you, gentlemen," he said to the men and the agents. "Tris, Johanna," he nodded to the female presence in the room and then he swept out the room, Edward Harrison following him quickly.

Doc Johanna stood as well. "Come on, Tris. Let's get you healed," she said in her soothing voice.

Tris stood the same time her fellow agents did and, turning, she swiftly kicked her brother in his shin.

"Shit, Tris," Caleb cried out, his hand coming down to rub at his shin. "What the fuck was that for?"

"That's for helping me out, shit sack," she told him in disgust.

Then she swiftly turned to follow Doc Johanna out. The remaining men all hissed painfully at the blood which had seeped through her thin shirt, showing the criss-cross strands of blood that echoed her shredded back. She turned back to them. "Yeah, and I'm not bitching about it either," she said and then she left the library with the doc.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you guys for the favorites and the alerts. I'm beyond excited at how you are enjoying this.

Some of the reviews I've received have commented on how strong and hardcore Tris is in this story. I do admit I was a little concerned on how my version of Tris would be perceived but I couldn't be happier with the way you guys like the characterization change. Hope this continues.

On a sidenote: I'm working on a christmas oneshot and I'm looking for inspiration. So, if any of you wonderful readers have any phrases, situations, or even objects you think I could include, PM me. I love challenge!

And so, on to Chapter Three... enjoy.

* * *

Chapter Three.

Tris found herself back in Tori's office with Doc Johanna. While the two physicians were discussing the amount of time she would need in a unit, Tris wandered through the double swing doors and over to Four, who was still asleep and healing.

She sat down on the cold marble to his left, facing his head and she stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing her ankles.

"It could have been worse," she started conversationally, though perfectly aware he couldn't hear her, not with the sedative they had given him, or that he had the slightest idea of what she was talking about. "Although, I'm not looking forward to my private meeting with the boss. That's when I'll get the real dressing down."

She looked across at the head sitting free of the solid mass healing his body. "Why do you call yourself Four and not Tobias?" she wondered aloud. "What's your story?" She considered this for a moment, speculating why he would choose to call himself something other than the name his parents gave him. Granted, she tended to go by her nickname of Tris more than Beatrice, but at least that had some connection to her birth name. Not some random number.

She sighed loudly. "Please don't make me regret bringing you here, Four," she whispered. "Take the offer to stay. It's not so bad here. There are worse places to be, worse jobs to have."

She didn't hear Tori push through the door and Tori listened as her friend quietly pleaded with the man to stay. Tori didn't know what would happen if Four decided he didn't want to become a member of the Dauntless. Nobody had ever declined an offer to work for the company while she had been a member, but she knew Mason Prior did not like people to know too much about his elite organization. Tori hoped, for Tris's sake, that Four took the offer.

"Are you ready, Tris?" Tori asked quietly, not really wanting to disturb her.

"Sure," Tris smiled as she stood and moved over to the unit on Four's left.

"Unit Nine," Tori called to the technicians Tris knew were there but out of sight.

"How long do I have to be in there?" Tris asked, taking the robe Tori offered her as she toed off her shoes.

The agents all wore robes and usually undressed, if they were able to, in a room off the main chamber, waiting until the last minute and they were in the units, the liquid about to be infused, to remove the plush covering. Tris unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off, and at Tori's hand instructions, she turned so Tori could take another look at her back, holding the robe against her front to maintain a degree of dignity. Though she knew most people here had seen her naked body at one time or another, it was one of the things that didn't sit too well with her. While she was comfortable with her body, and her inhibitions were low, she couldn't always dismiss the stern voice from her memory reminding her to be modest at all times.

Tori's delicate fingers traced softly across Tris's back, and she withdrew them quickly when Tris flinched. "Two hours at the most," Tori stated as Tris turned back, slipping her arms into the soft covering. Tori turned quickly away when Tris slipped out of her shorts, her eyes flickering to the observation window where she knew the technicians in their office were getting an eye full. Christina was worse though, that girl had practically no inhibitions and would gladly strip down in full view of anyone working with the units.

"Jesus, Tris. Do you have a problem with underwear in general?" Tori asked after Tris had shimmied out of her shorts and kicked the garment over to her, amazed that the girl could still shock her.

"It just gets in the way sometimes," Tris replied with a slight shrug as she stepped into the unit. "Shit," she grumbled as she sat on the cold marble floor of the sunken tub, holding the back of her robe to her side so she didn't sit on it. "You'd think the brains could come up with a way to heat the units."

Tori smirked as she pointed a finger in the direction of the observation window and the warm, mercury-like liquid began to seep into the unit. Tris removed her robe and sighed blissfully as the warmth spread over her.

"Who's enjoying the Tris show today?" Tris asked as she relaxed back.

"I think its Gabe, Jeff, and Lynn today," Tori answered as she walked back over to her office.

"Hey boys, Lynn," Tris called with a cheeky smile and a small wave of her hand as she flickered her eyes over to the mirrored window. She didn't know why they bothered with the one sided viewing glass. She reasoned it was to give the users of the units a sense of privacy but they all knew their every move was monitored.

"Hey Tris," a smooth voice came from nowhere. "Looking good as always, babe!"

"You know it, Gabe," Tris grinned, her eyes closing, a small grimace on her face as the liquid hit her wounds.

"What do you feel like today?' Tori queried, coming back into the large room, her hands holding an iPod.

"Anything, just put it on shuffle," Tris replied. Being in a unit was boring if you were unable to sleep so she usually listened to music to help pass the time. She had bought the small device to keep in Tori's office and Tori often used it as well.

Tori slipped the headphones over Tris's head but didn't turn it on just yet.

The liquid was rushing in and the unit filled quickly. It didn't take long before it covered Tris's shoulders, and Tori signaled for the technicians to stop the flow.

"Okay, sit forward," Tori instructed and Tris complied, grimacing again when her wounds protested against the movement. In an instant, the liquid started solidifying and before long, Tris couldn't move. She relaxed her muscles as the cocoon nestled her completely.

"Two hours, Tris," Tori ordered again, reminding her. She turned back to the observation window. "Two hours, guys. Don't let her talk you into letting her out early again."

"Sure thing, boss," Gabe's voice echoed again.

Tori bent and picked Tris's shirt from the floor. "I'll get this over to Marlene and see if she can do anything to save it."

"Thanks, Tori."

"Rest, Tris, sleep if you can," Tori looked over to Four. "He's not going anywhere and he'll be right there when you wake."

Tris nodded, closing her eyes. The sudden music playing in her ears would have made her jump if she could move, so she just shot Tori's back a look, before she closed her eyes again.

* * *

An hour and half later Tris was feeling fidgety, even if she couldn't move.

"Hey, Gabe," she called out, thankful Tori hadn't left the music playing too loudly.

"Yes, babe," Gabe's smooth voice vibrated around the large room after a minute.

"I think I'm cooked," she said turning her head in the direction of the technician's booth.

"Not gonna work, Tris. I was put on nights for a month the last time I let you out early," he told her with a hint of laughter in his voice.

"Ah, come on, Gabe," Tris whined.

"Not gonna happen," Gabe replied.

"Gabe."

There was no answer.

"Gabe!" she tried a little louder.

"He's gone to the bathroom," a female voice called back.

"Oh fuck," Tris whispered. "Tell him he's chicken-shit," she called out.

She turned her head slightly to the unit beside her to see a tiny movement in Four's eyelids.

"Hey Lynn," she called again, her eyes not moving.

"Sorry, Tris, but orders are orders," came the reply.

"No, I think he's waking up again," Tris informed the technician.

A few minutes later Tori hurried into the large area, followed by Jeff, another technician. They made a beeline over to Four to check him out.

Tori looked at the portable tablet she had with her, scrutinizing his vitals, observing tissue regeneration levels, and checking for any signs of infection. The portable pad was a highly-advanced piece of technology. It informed the doctors what was happening in the units; showing the patients vitals and the progression of the healing process. "Yep, he's coming out again," she confirmed with pursed lips.

"Hey Tori, how am I doing?" Tris asked, her eyes hopeful.

Tori didn't even look at her. "Another half hour, Tris," she answered distractedly, her gaze intent on the technology in her hands. She looked over to the window. "Prep another sedative just in case," she called out.

"Just check my stats, Tori," Tris demanded in a firm voice. Tori looked over to see Tris's determined face, her eyes hard and her lips stretched in a thin lane, and shook her head as she switched screens on the pad.

"Am I done?" Tris asked impatiently.

"Tris," Tori groaned with frustration.

Tris's eyes were drawn back to movement from Four as his head twitched slightly.

"Tori, if I'm healed, let me out," Tris said firmly. "I can help with Four, trust me."

Tori looked back at her pad and then turned to the window. "Lynn, let Tris out."

"Thank fuck for that," Tris whispered, her eyes turning upward as if in prayer to a higher being.

The cocoon around her shifted back into liquid and drained away through small holes that opened in the bottom of the unit. As soon as Tris could move, she gingerly twisted her torso and looked as best she could at her back. She smiled at the smoothness of her skin, no scarring this time, not that she could see anyway. She refused to acknowledge the thin pale line just below her shoulder blade; a relic from a time best forgotten. She stood quickly.

Jeff, who was fairly new to Dauntless, tried not to stare at her, and failed miserably, as Tris climbed out of the unit and glided her arms into the robe she'd discarded earlier. She patted his cheek as she passed him on her way to Four's unit, fastening the robe loosely around her waist. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

Tris lay down sideways on the marble floor next to Four's unit, her head propped up by her elbow and her knees slightly bent, as she watched his eyelids flutter. Tori walked around to his other side, and Gabe joined Jeff just behind him, leaving Lynn in the control room in case they needed anything from there.

After a few minutes, Four's eyes drifted open and Tris actually held her breath, chewing on her upper lip in nervous anticipation.

It took a minute as his eyes scanned the area around him, taking in his new surroundings as best he could without moving. Then his deep brown eyes finally settled on her.

"Hey, Sexy," he said, his voice low and raw from sleep. "Are we gonna fuck now?" he asked, his eyebrows rising.

Tris chuckled softly at him. "You certainly have a one track mind," she returned, her voice surprising husky.

"Babe, I feel like I've been dreaming of you for a lifetime," Four admitted in a slight slur.

Tris smiled at him, surprised at his frankness, but knowing it was probably the medication they had given him talking.

Four licked his lips and swallowed thickly, and Tris felt her heart speed up a little at the sight of his tongue running across his lips.

"Can we get Mr. Eaton some water?" Tori said quietly to Jeff, and he turn to comply with her order as Tori knelt down on Four's other side.

Four's eyes flicked to Tori and then back to Tris. "Am I dead?" he asked. "Am I in heaven?"

"What makes you think that?" Tris asked.

"Are you naked under there?" he questioned simply, his eyebrows rising and his head tipping forward a little to her robe.

Tris just nodded with a smile.

"And another beautiful woman on my other side," his eyes turned to Tori and she smirked back at him.

"You're not dead, Four," Tris said with a laugh.

Four looked down and then around the room. "So where am I?"

Tris swallowed and looked at Tori. Tori just shrugged, leaving this to Tris.

"You took a bullet…" Tris said simply.

"I remember," was all Four replied with, his eyes intent on her.

"You were dying…" Tris added.

"And you don't fuck dead people," Four confirmed with half smile.

"How the hell do you remember that?" Tris asked, her own smile tugging at her lips.

"I remember everything, Tris," he emphasized her name.

"You took a bullet," she said again, her face serious. "For me."

"Didn't want that body marred," he returned with a grin.

Tris looked fleetingly to Tori, their eyes meeting briefly before she looked back to Four.

Tori took the cup of water with a straw that was offered to her and held it out to Four. Four took a grateful drink through the straw, wetting his lips again and then turned back to Tris.

"Where am I, Tris," he asked seriously. "I remember what happened and I know I should be dead."

"You were gonna die, Four, and I couldn't take the chance with an ambulance," her eyes shifted to Tori again. "I brought you back with me. To our doctors."

Tori and Tris watched as Four took this information in. His eyes again taking in the room, emotions they were not sure of playing across his face.

"Why can't I move?" he questioned, his gaze now darting down to the silver-gray, concrete-like mass he was sitting in.

"You're in a sort of re-generation bath," Tori explained, leaning forward a little.

"Re-generation," Four scoffed. "Really! Like some futuristic shit or something?"

Tori looked at Tris and when the younger girl nodded, she continued. "I won't bore you with the particulars, but the liquid contains a healing agent that speeds up the process. You can heal in hours instead of days."

Four's eyes drifted down to the solid mass surrounding him. "Liquid?"

"It solidifies," Tris offered.

"No shit," Four said with a slow grin.

"Absolutely no shit," she returned his grin. "And Tori here can tell you how you're healing," she added, indicating to Tori with her head.

"Tori," Four acknowledged, looking at the raven –haired woman.

"Hi," Tori said with sweet smile.

"Don't let that angelic-look fool you," Tris laughed. "She can be one mean bitch when she wants to be."

"Tris!" Tori laughed, though her eyes were wide in reprimand.

"So, what you're telling me is," Four clarified. "I was shot, close to dying, and you dragged my sorry ass from that alley and brought me to your mysterious lair so you could heal me."

"Right," Tris agreed.

"Are you gonna have your wicked way with me before you send me on my way?" Four asked with a lopsided grin to Tris.

"Absolutely," Tris gushed, returning his grin.

Four swung his eyes to Tori. "So, am I healed, Doc?"

Tori laughed, no one called her doc or Doctor here, she was just Tori. "Yes, it looks like you're healed."

"Then let me out, I'm wasting precious time here."

Tori laughed and thought this man was perfect for Tris as she indicated to Lynn to start the process to drain the unit.

When the solid mass began to liquefy, the movement startled Four before he turned a little in the unit.

"Who's behind me?" he asked Tris, who hadn't moved.

"That's Gabe and Jeff, the hired muscle," Tris laughed, and motioned for them to go.

"A lot more than hired muscle, babe," Gabe called, as he walked from the room.

"You wish," Tris bantered after him with a smile.

"You have a lot of pull around here," Four stated.

Tris shrugged at him but didn't confirm nor deny his statement.

"Here," Tori said from his other side, "you'll need this," and dropped a robe beside the unit for him.

"Thanks," he said as the liquid started to drain away and Tori discreetly turned her back.

Tris remained exactly where she was, her eyes riveted to him as more and more of his body was revealed. She unconsciously gnawed on her bottom lip when his smooth chest came into view and the liquid level dipped lower, exposing a taut abdomen and dark hair leading further down. Curling around the side of his ribs was more of the black ink she had observed earlier, and she resisted the urge to look at his back. Her eyes briefly shifted to inspect the area where the bullet had penetrated this luscious body, thankful to see that the skin was unmarked. Tris's eyes wandered back to continue ogling Four's body, lowering as if on their own accord. _Oh my,_ she thought, the words jumping into her mind before she could stop them, and she moaned with anticipation.

Four also checked out the wound site and couldn't stop his sound of surprise that there was absolutely no indication he had ever been shot. He looked up, his face full of shock and turned his gaze upon Tris, to see her eyeing him hungrily.

"See something you like, Blondie?" he grinned to her.

Tris tore her eyes from Four's body and back to his face, with a glorious smile crossing her face as her eyes twinkled.

"Are you two done?" Tori asked, her back still to the now openly naked Four.

"Not in the least," Tris laughed.

Tori huffed and made to move, skimming the edge of Four's unit carefully and keeping her eyes off the man. "I'll be in my office."

Tris swung her legs down into the now empty unit so she was sitting, effectively, on the edge of the 'tub', and Four moved onto his knees, kneeling up and moving toward her. Tris pulled him closer, to settle between her legs, and she wrapped her arms around him, enveloping his bare body. Four's eyes held hers as he slowly untied the loose knot at her waist, and then he slipped his arms around her, returning her embrace as he pulled her even closer, mating her chest to his.

"Thank you for saving my life," she whispered against his ear.

"Thank you for saving mine," Four returned in her ear.

They pulled back at the same time, and Four moved his arms back from around her waist. He held her face tenderly and without hesitation, their lips met.

Tris never believed in the cliché _'I saw fireworks'_ but she truly did. The sparks seemed to fly around them as she melted into Four's kiss, his lips soft and enticing; his tongue delicious and demanding. She wanted to crawl inside him and stay there forever. His hands wound into her hair as he pulled her closer still, deepening the kiss as Tris equaled his exploration of her mouth with her own mission of discovery.

Four's hand trailed down her neck and lower until he gently held the weight of her bare breast in his hand, softly brushing his thumb over her nipple, feeling the vibration as her body shuddered slightly at his touch.

Tris moaned at the sensation of his large, calloused hands holding her and stroking her skin tenderly. She reluctantly pulled away from his lips breathing hard, and brought her hand to his neck, stroking his skin softly. Four, mirroring her breathing, rested his forehead against hers.

"Hey," Gabe's voice called through the intercom from the booth. "We can see you. You know that."

"I know that," Tris rasped, her voice anything but steady.

"I didn't," Four said, his head still against hers, and Tris chuckled.

"Tris," Tori's voice called from the door to her office. "The boss is on his way. He knows Detective Eaton is awake."

Tris sighed. "Impeccable timing as always."

"The Boss?" Four asked, leaning back slightly to look at her.

Tris nodded to him, chewing on her lips briefly before indicating to the robe left by the side of the unit. "You'd better put that on. He's gonna want to talk to you. We'll have to wait."

"Shit. I'm fed up with waiting," Four growled. He held her face between his hands again and kissed her again, tenderly.

She laughed when they pulled away. "Four, you were unconscious. I was the one waiting."

"I was still waiting," Four reiterated, his face serious.

"Put the robe on, Four." She drew her legs back and stood, wrapping her own garment back around her waist and retying the belt. Four climbed out the unit, grabbed the robe and wrapped it around himself.

Tris held her hand out to him and he took it with a smile, interlacing her fingers with his and they walked together back to Tori's office.

Four stopped abruptly, causing Tris to stop moving as well. She looked back and registered the confusion on his face.

"How did she know I'm a detective and my last name?" he asked hesitantly.

"We have our ways," Tris answered mysteriously, her eyes bright. She chewed on her bottom lip again before asking, "Tobias?"

Four's features changed from confusion to a hard look that almost made Tris take a step away from him. "Don't call me that," he spat out. "My name is Four."

"Okay," Tris returned quickly, her eyes flickering nervously at his quick change of mood. Her uneasiness slipping as she saw hurt and hatred lace his eyes, an expression she was all too aware of and she let his anger at his given name slide from her.

They entered Tori's office the same time as Mason and Caleb did, followed by Doc Johanna.

"Detective Eaton," Mason said, walking forward with his hand held out before him. "I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving the life of my niece."

Four noted the man behind the tall imposing figure as one of the men who had been with Tris in the alley. He looked at the offered hand before him and, after a swift look to Tris, he accepted the handshake with a firm grip, his other hand remaining in Tris's.

"Don't mention it," he replied. "I think we're even."

"Yes," Mason agreed with a short nod of his head. He looked at Tris and her hand firmly locked with the detectives. "Could I trouble you for a meeting in my office, Detective Eaton?" he asked courteously.

Four eyed the middle-aged man in front of him, dressed in expensive clothes and carrying an air of arrogance and authority. His light brown hair was speckled with gray and his skin was lightly tanned. He looked to be in good shape and Four felt slightly unsettled for a reason he couldn't comprehend. He remembered something else from the night in the alley. _You're from the Dauntless. Mason sent you._

The Dauntless was a subject he, his partner, and many of their colleagues in the C.P.D had discussed on numerous occasions. It was one of those organizations nobody could touch. There were doubts it even existed. There was never any evidence to point a finger at anybody. Generally, the un-discussed consensus of many of the city's police units was that the Dauntless was helping them. They took out many of the miscreants that eluded the police and, in his opinion, that was all for the good of the city and its citizens. _Was this man standing in front of him Mason Prior, the rumored head of the elite Dauntless?_

Four felt Tris squeeze his fingers in reassurance. "Of course, sir," he answered politely. "If I could just get my clothes back," he gestured down to the white robe he wore.

He watched as the man in front of him looked to Tori, who he'd almost forgotten was there, and she stepped forward.

"Your clothes are through there," she indicated to a door leading from her office, "though your shirt was wrecked so there is a new one waiting for you."

"Thank you," Four said, smiling at the woman who had helped heal him.

"Tris," the older man said, "let me walk you to your room so you can change for your appointment with Jack." He turned back to Four, gesturing to the man standing behind him. "Caleb here will show you where my office is, Detective Eaton."

Four turned to look at Tris. "I guess later, then," he said with a smile.

"Later," she repeated. "I'll wait for you."

"You'd better," he said with his slow grin, and despite the room being full of strangers, he pulled her to him for another kiss; sweet, gentle, and promising so much more.

Tris sighed as she pulled away from Four, her fingers lingering in his hair where she'd held him to her. "Tris,' her uncle called, impatient as always.

"I'm coming," she huffed, then smirked at Four when he grinned at her.

She dropped his hand and turned to go back into the unit room, as Tori led Four to the small changing area where his clothes were located.

"Tris," Mason called, "I don't have all day."

"I'm just getting my shorts and shoes. It's not like I don't know where my room is, Uncle Mason," she griped as she pushed through the double doors.

Mason bristled where he stood, muttering about impertinent children and wasting his time. Tori had to turn so she could hide her smile. He always made comments about his brother's kids being children but strangely none of the others, despite them being the same age or younger. She herself was barely older than Caleb but she had never been classed as a child by her boss. She put it down to the fact her boss had seen Caleb and Tris as children and sometimes, despite their jobs and their incredible responsibilities, and the fact that these two handled both with unsurpassable levelheadedness and precision, they would always be children in his eyes.

Tris returned with her shorts in her hand, shoes on and fastened, and Mason turned his head to Tori. "Miss Wu," he said with a nod in way of a farewell as he turned to leave the office.

"Catch ya later, Tori," Tris called as she followed him out and before the door swung shut, she stuck her head back through. "Tell the Body God, to wait for me outside the boss's office if I'm not there," and then she was gone.

* * *

Tris walked through the house beside her uncle. "Are you really gonna walk me to my room?" she asked.

"Yes, Tris," Mason said. "I want to make sure you get to your appointment."

"I'm not a child, Uncle Mason," she huffed.

"Then stop acting like one and attend your appointments when they are made."

"Why don't you just say what you really want to? You're pissed at me for bringing Four in," she challenged.

Mason stopped walking and turned to her, forcing her to stop as well. "Tris, you can't just pick men up off the street and bring them back here just because, I believe the colloquialism is: you want to 'nail them'. We have rules and I expect you of all people to respect those rules."

Tris's eyes flashed as she looked up at her uncle, pulling her own body up to stretch out every inch of her frame, and she glared at him.

"It wasn't like that and you know it," she said through gritted teeth. "If I wanted to just fuck him," Mason cringed at her use of words, "I would have taken him somewhere else. The man was dying, Uncle Mason. Dying because I made a stupid, idiotic mistake. I let my emotions get the better of me and believe me that is a mistake I will never make again. What was I supposed to do, leave him to die with the scrum we hit, to die with the rats? I'm sorry, Uncle Mason, but I was raised to recognize the difference between cold-heartedness and benevolence, to offer a helping hand to those in need."

She paused, looking at her uncle standing tall in front of her, so different from her father, yet strangely so similar. "If that had been Caleb or me, wouldn't you want someone to take care of us, save us if they could?"

"Yes, Tris, without a doubt," Mason conceded. "But you know as well as I do that this place," he held his hands out to indicate the house, "this whole organization prides itself on our secrecy and understanding of the need to not flaunt our achievements or abilities." He looked down at his young niece. So young and beautiful, her whole life spread out before her, despite the horrors of her past and her incomprehensible losses.

"Tris," he said tenderly. "Can you honestly give me the reassurance I need that Detective Eaton will keep this secret for the rest of his life if he decides not to join us? He's a cop, my dear, and cops are not to be trusted."

"Uncle Mason…" Tris started.

"Beatrice," he stopped her. "Let me handle this one, okay? I hope he does decide to stay, I really do." He moved his hands up to her face and tipped her head forward a little to kiss her gently on the forehead. "Now go, change into something less comfortable and go to your meeting with Jack. He's worried about you, you know."

"I know," she said quietly. She looked back up at him, noticing the anger had left his features. "Hey, Uncle Mason," she said. "Don't call him by his given name, okay. Just call him Four, that's what he likes to be known as."

Mason closed his eyes, wondering on the future of this country if people insisted on stupid nicknames, like Four and Tris, when they had good, solid names. He opened them to his niece's hopefully look and nodded his head in agreement.

And then he turned and continued down the corridor. "Oh," he called back to her, "please try and find time to visit with your grandfather."

She nodded though he couldn't see as he continued on his way.


	4. Chapter 4

Surprise! Happy Thursday!

I'm having a super spectacular day so far, so I decided to post this next chapter, mainly in part to the fabulous reviews and PM's I've received. And just as an added bonus, this is an extra-long chapter with lots of Four and Tris interaction.

(My happiness in no way takes away from what happened yesterday in San Bernardino. My heartfelt condolences go out to the many families suffering because of the actions of a few.)

 **Warning: Rating change.**

I've change the rating to **MA** for this chapter for the extreme sexiness going on in here so don't read if that's not your thing. I don't condone unprotected sex so play safe, guys.

Hope you enjoy this one, let me know either way.

* * *

Chapter Four.

Four wandered around the room, taking in the décor and calculating the money paid to make the room what it was. The rich, dark wood and the deep red of the leather upholstery covering the seating showed this was a man's domain. A bank of large windows along one side of the room let in a stream of sunlight, illuminating the space well. The walls were half covered with a deep red flocked wallpaper, the rest in a wood paneling that matched the wood color of the furniture. This was a room with a purpose - to make a statement: A statement of power.

"So," he started, staring down the tall, lean figure standing in the doorway, "have you been here long?"

"Me personally?" Caleb answered walking further into the room. "Or the Dauntless?"

Four shrugged. He had a feeling he'd learn nothing about Dauntless from the man before him. "How long have you known Tris?" he asked instead.

"Forever," Caleb answered simply with a smirk.

"Literally or metaphorically?" Four probed.

Caleb raised an eyebrow, and Four was strangely reminded of Tris. "Forever," he repeated.

"Does she have a boyfriend?" Four asked hesitantly, trying for nonchalance but fearing he didn't pull it off.

"Would it make a difference to you if she did?" Caleb questioned as he moved around the room.

Four thought about the man's question for a minute. He really wanted that girl and for more than just a one-time thing. He couldn't explain it, but there was something about her. There was something that pulled at him deep somewhere inside him whenever he saw her. It almost felt primal, like some primitive urge he couldn't control. He needed to protect her and possess her ever since he had laid eyes on her in the club. He couldn't stop himself from moving to her, from kissing her. And by all indications, she felt the same. She was just as drawn to him as he was to her. But yes, it would matter if she was already in a relationship. He didn't break people up. Okay, well, maybe he'd make a one-time exception, for Tris.

So he just smiled skeptically at the man.

Caleb sighed at the expression on Four's face. "No, she's not in a relationship at the moment."

Caleb studied the man who was making his sister act crazy. Okay, crazier than she already was. He was exactly the type she always went for. That stereotypical rugged bad boy that sent parents running for the shotgun. He unconsciously slipped his hand to the small of his back where he always kept his glock and brushed his fingers lovingly over the cold metal. Caleb shook his head, clearing his thoughts and wariness of Four as he moved his hand again and held it out to the cop in front of him. "Caleb," he finally introduced himself. "Caleb Prior."

Four looked cautiously at him, but the name registered. "Prior," Four repeated but took the offered hand. He was a cop, he knew what that name represented. Prior meant power, wealth, and a little bit of fear within the business world.

"Yes," Caleb said with a sly smile. "Prior."

"And the man I'm waiting to see…?"

"My uncle," Caleb provided. "Mason Prior." Well, that confirmed Four's earlier thoughts about the smooth-talking, arrogant man being the head of Dauntless. "That makes Tris…"

"My sister," Caleb smirked.

"Shit, she's a Prior?"

"Yes she is," Caleb said, finally releasing the cop's hand.

"Four," Four said distractedly, introducing himself.

"I know."

The door behind them opened with force, causing Four to jump slightly as Mason Prior entered the room. He walked around to the chair behind the large mahogany desk that dominated the office.

"Detective Eaton," he began as he sat. "Thank you for waiting. I'm afraid my niece can be a handful at times."

"I bet she can," he muttered in a low voice, smirking, aware that both men heard his commentary.

"Won't you please take a seat?" Mason said, indicating to one of the large wingback chairs in front of his desk.

Four walked over and settled into the comfortable chair, Caleb lurking somewhere behind him.

"So, Detective Eaton, tell me a little something about yourself."

Four shifted uneasily under the older man's piercing gaze and was instantly transported back to his high school days and his frequent meetings with the principal.

"Well, I grew up in Granite Bay, California. I was raised by my father because my mother died when I was five. I lived there until I graduated high school and then I went to UIC on a football scholarship. I joined the police force after I finished college and what you see now is what I am."

He watched as the man, who still hadn't introduced himself, nodded in all the right places as he provided a shortened biography of his life.

"And your father?"

Four swallowed. "He still lives in Granite Bay," Four said simply, trying to keep the hardness from his voice.

There was silence for a few moments. "And what do you know about your father?"

Four looked at him quizzically, narrowing his eyes at the elder Prior, not liking the rising uneasiness he felt at the mention of his father. "My father?"

"Yes, Detective Eaton, your father."

Four looked between the two men. Caleb had moved almost silently around the room and was now leaning against a mahogany bureau between two large windows along the far wall, the wood matching the large desk. Four found it disquieting how Caleb had moved and it hadn't registered with him. It was eerily similar to the way Tris moved in the alleyway. One minute she was behind him, and the next, he was on the cold concrete with her on top of him. Not that he found that position uncomfortable; it was the lack of her movement and the obvious fact that she had moved that unnerved him.

"He teaches Political Science," he finally said, answering the older man's question but not knowing why it had been asked in the first place.

Mason nodded at this, filing Four's answer away in his mind as he looked intently at the man before him. "I believe you have quite a respectable reputation within your precinct, Detective Eaton."

"I enjoy my work, Mr. Prior," Four said, dropping the name so this man would know he knew who he was.

Mason nodded, his eyes flashing to Caleb. _Trust Caleb to tell the cop who he was,_ he thought. _That boy drops the name all too easily._

"The Dauntless has a good reputation, too," Mason said, leaning back in his chair a smile pulling at his lips.

"That it does," Four conceded.

"So you have heard of us?" Mason said smirked, his eyes twinkling.

"Every cop in Chicago has heard rumors about the Dauntless, Mr. Prior," Four remarked.

"And what have they heard?"

"That the Dauntless is a glorified vigilante group, helping to keep the streets clean," Four offered.

Mason laughed. "That we are, Detective Eaton," He looked at the young man in front of him before continuing, the level of his voice dipping slightly. "But we are so much more, as well."

There was silence for a few seconds as Mason considered his next move. He eyed the young man seriously. "Can I ask you a question, Tobias?" He noticed the movement of a clenched jaw on the man sat before him and smiled inwardly. "Can I call you Tobias?"

"No," Four grounded out through tight teeth, not missing the sly smirk that pulled at Mason's lips.

The room was quiet for a few seconds, Mason and Four's gaze holding while internal assumptions were made.

"How would you like to join our ranks, Four?" Mason asked eventually, willing to call him by his foolish nickname for now.

Four looked shocked. "Excuse me?"

"It takes a certain amount of courage, of bravery, to throw oneself in the way of a bullet, Four. Fearlessness like that is something we embrace here."

"It wasn't courage or fearlessness," Four said, evenly. "Anyone would have done the same to stop a woman from being shot by a dickless shit."

Mason's eyes shot to Caleb. "Apparently not."

Caleb shifted uncomfortably in his chosen position against the bureau.

"Tris rarely makes mistakes, Four, but last night, I believe she nearly made a fatal one."

 _Last night,_ Four thought. _Was it only last night?_

"And as I've said, I will be forever indebted to you for her life."

"And I said we are even," Four responded more sharply than he intended.

"As you wish," Mason said with a tilt of his head. "But my offer still remains."

"To come and work for you?" Four clarified.

"Yes," Mason answered. "Though it might be possible to still work for the C.P.D. Many of our agents have outside jobs."

Four looked warily at Mason Prior as he sat behind his impressive, oversized desk. "I don't know," he said honestly.

"Of course, please forgive me," Mason said sitting forward again. "This is a lot to take in." He stood and walked around his desk.

Four also stood, feeling that the meeting was over.

"Take some time, Four," Mason said kindly. "Think about my offer. You have some time off work..."

"What!" Four exclaimed in disbelief.

"Your sister has informed your precinct of your recent illness and the need for sick leave," Mason said with a secretive smile.

"My partner knows I'm an only child," Four said with a sideway glance. _How can they just do that without his knowledge?_

"And he has recently won a luxury family vacation for two weeks on a remote and privately-owned island in the South Pacific," Mason countered.

Four laughed at that. Jason was always complaining he never went on vacation. Charlotte, his wife, would be ecstatic.

"A few days, Four, that's all I ask," Mason mollified, and he turned them both toward the door. "Think carefully."

"And what if I refuse?" Four asked as they stood at the door.

Mason smiled shrewdly at him. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it." He pulled open the door to see Tris leaning against a window frame outside his office, chewing nervously on a fingernail. "Ah, Tris," he said, his smile still plastered on his face, "I trust your meeting with Dr. Jack is complete."

"Yes, Uncle Mason," she answered with a roll of her eyes.

Four's face lit up at the sight of her there, obviously waiting for him, just like she said she would.

"I will be checking with Jack, Tris," Mason said sternly.

"You do that," she countered, her eyes narrowing.

"Yes, well," Mason turned back to Four. "I'll see you in a couple of days, Detective Eaton." He turned back to Tris. "I trust you'll make sure Detective Eaton gets home safely, Tris?"

"Yes, sir," she said with a mock salute to her uncle.

"Insolence is not attractive, Tris," Mason chided.

"Sure it is, Uncle Mason," she responded as a cheeky smile crossed her lips.

"Go," Mason said, pointing down the corridor.

"I'm gone," she returned as she pulled on Four's hand and led him down the corridor.

Mason shook his head at his head-strong niece and walked back into his office.

"Why didn't you tell him about his father?" Caleb asked as Mason sat back down at his desk and opened the file folder in front of him.

"Not yet, Caleb," Mason told him. "You have to hold some cards to your chest, boy. And I don't want you to say anything either, not to Four and not to Tris."

"Yes, Uncle Mason," was all Caleb said as he, too, left the office.

* * *

Four and Tris walked side by side down the wide corridor.

"This is some place," Four commented, his eyes unable to stop wandering over the opulence that surrounded him. The ceiling was high and the walls covered in egg-white wallpaper with a silver pattern running through it. The maple hardwood flooring was waxed and covered in intervals with rich rugs.

"I guess," Tris said, looking around her. She had been living here for almost seven years now, plus she had visited often when she was a child, so the house was commonplace to her.

"You gonna show me around?" Four asked, taking her hand in his.

Tris looked sideways at him. "What did my uncle say to you?" she asked straight to the point.

"I don't know, Tris," he said with his own surreptitious look to her. "It's pretty much a cloak and dagger thing here. I could tell you, but then I'd probably have to kill you."

Tris laughed. "Oh please, you could try. And I know exactly what was said in that office."

"And what was that, oh wise one?" he asked.

"He invited you to join Dauntless," she said with a smug look on her face.

"Well, maybe I won't have to kill you anytime soon," Four laughed.

"And what did you say?" she asked, her eyes flickering to his, showing her nervousness.

Four stopped and turned to look at her. She was beautiful. Not in a conventional way, but she had a presence that oozed beauty. He didn't think he'd ever laid eyes on a girl like the one in front of him. Her lively hazel eyes seemed to shimmer and change with her mood; one time a sparkling green, the other a hypnotic golden brown. They seemed to call to him and made him want to lose himself deep within them. Her blond hair hung below her shoulders in waves that made his fingers twitch with the need to run them through its length. Her lips drew his gaze like they were begging for his attention and to be kissed. Her body was just perfect; tight in the places it was supposed to be and luscious in others, and he could feel the pull of her all the way in his groin.

Tris mirrored his scrutiny with one of her own of him. She could now distinguish his hair color as being dark brown, and she remembered the thickness of it when her fingers had caressed through it when they kissed in the club. His features were gentle and striking at the same time, his eyes a luscious, velvety brown that seemed like endless pools. He projected a manliness she had rarely encountered, despite 80% of her time being spent around males, and testosterone seeming to pour out of him. He was again wearing his dark jeans, but now wore a deep brown button down shirt, as his own t-shirt was covered in blood and had a bullet hole in it. She yearned to run her finger across the muscular, broad chest she had seen earlier and she appreciated the way the shirt fitted tightly to him.

She tugged slightly on his hand, and Four went willingly toward her, his other hand moving up her arm in silent reverence, continuing along her shoulder and up her neck until he again held her head in his palm.

"You're beautiful," he whispered as he leaned in closer to her, his lips an inch from hers.

Tris snorted a little at his comment. "So are you," she echoed, and Four laughed.

"Men aren't beautiful, Tris," he smiled.

Tris lifted her eyebrow at that as her hand mirrored his, journeying up his body to rest behind his head.

"Handsome," she said, kissing one side of his lips. "Sexy," she commented with a suggestive grin before kissing the other side of his mouth. "Beautiful," she repeated as she covered his lips with hers, immediately demanding entrance into his warm mouth.

Four savored the feel of her velvet tongue gliding against his, stroking, probing, and daring him to respond. He rose eagerly to her challenge and pulled her body full against his, wrapping the hand that still held hers behind her back, drawing her tightly to him. His other hand moved from her head and down her body, sliding over her pert behind, his fingers clenching against the softness, and Tris whimpered as his nails bit into her slightly through the thin material of her shorts. He continued with his hand, moving it down to her thigh until it reached the hem of her shorts and then he brushed his fingers under the edge and gripped the flesh on her outer leg tightly.

As they continued to map out each other's mouths, Four's hand slipped to the back of her thigh, his fingers under the material, and he lifted her leg easily against his hip, giving his fingers more room to maneuverer as they glided around and dangerously close to her center.

They had to separate their lips as breathing became a problem, and they stood there in the corridor, holding on to each other, breathing harshly and staring at each other with equal need and want.

"Four," Tris whimpered at the feel of his long fingers brushing against her inner thigh. He let go of the hand held behind her back and immediately lifted her. Her arms and legs wrapped around him as their lips met again, ferociously and unrelenting. He stumbled with her until she bumped against the wall, her lips pulling from his with the force of her body hitting the wall. He didn't apologize at the roughness, only grinded his body into hers, growling deep within his throat, which made Tris tremble delightfully.

"Geez, get a room," he vaguely heard someone chuckle as they walked past the two against the wall, and he pulled away from where he had nestled his lips against her throat to look at her, taking in her smile and sparkling eyes.

"Better get me to a room, Prior," he growled, "or I'm gonna fuck you against this wall. And believe me, you're gonna need somewhere to lie down when we're finished."

Tris closed her eyes and moaned deep in her throat at his words, savoring the harshness of his voice and the throbbing between her legs. "That way," she indicated down the corridor with her head.

Four dipped his head back to her neck and sucked gently at the tender skin there, and then asked, "How far?"

Tris opened her eyes as if to get a bearing on where they were. "To the end of the corridor, up the stairs, then down the west corridor to the end and the door in front of you."

"Fuck, Tris," he growled again. "That's too far. Anywhere closer?"

She could barely think about breathing the way his lips were caressing her skin, never mind anything else. "Ermm," she fought to get her brain in gear, thinking of the rooms around them. "At this time of day? No. Not unless you want an audience."

"Fuck that," he said, his voice low and deep.

Four pushed off the wall, with her in his arms and set off in the direction she had given, Tris's head buried in his neck, nibbling seductively.

He made it down the corridor and up the stairs, his eyes half on the direction he was taking and half watching the girl in his arms as she latched onto that part of his neck that sent shivers throughout his body.

"Shit," he groaned, halfway down the west corridor, "this place is fucking huge."

Tris smiled lasciviously at him as she dipped her hand between their bodies and palmed him through his jeans, the back of her hand surreptitiously rubbing against her own ache at the same time as her body pressed against his. "Yes," she said, with a slow grin. "Huge."

Four stop walking, and he again braced her against a wall and ground into her palm, forcing more pressure on her hand and her own core. "How much further?"

Her eyes fluttered closed at the pressure he was creating against her and the pleasure building within her already. "Almost there," she whispered as she pushed herself against him.

He laughed at her double meaning. "Really?"

Tris echoed his laugh as she opened her eyes and looked at him. "I was almost there in the club when you kissed me," she said with her sexy grin. She turned her head to the side. "Just follow the corridor around that corner, and my door will be in front of you."

Four crushed his lips to hers in another brutal kiss, pushing his hips to hers again.

She pulled her lips form his. "Shit, Four, just move it, will you?"

"I thought I was," he said with a grin.

Tris actually rolled her eyes at him. "Move your feet. Down the corridor and into my bedroom."

"Oh, I love a woman who knows how to command," Four said with a lopsided grin.

"And I love a man who knows when to shut up and do as he's told," she returned, her eyes iridescent with mischief.

Four pushed them from the wall again and followed the corridor around the corner and finally to the door that led to her room, again leaning her against it so he could kiss her without having to concentrate on keeping them upright.

Tris's hand moved behind her back, fumbling for the brass knob for a second before she opened the door. They fell through, Tris landing on the floor with Four on top of her.

"Shit," they said in unison, and their eyes met as they laughed. Their laughter stopped when their look changed to something they both recognized: Lust, with a capital L.

Tris's hands went straight to the shirt Four was wearing, pulling at the opening and tearing the buttons until they flew across the room. Her hands pushed the two panels aside so she could finally feel his hard chest beneath her small hands.

"We need to get a little further in the room, babe," Four moaned, his eyes closing at the feel of her thin, delicate fingers on his chest.

"Screw that," she said, lifting her head slightly and sucking one of his nipples. When she was satisfied she had teased it to perfection, she pulled back. "Let's just fuck here."

"Okay," Four agreed and kneeled up so he could shrug the shirt off. He threw it over her head into the room, and then he leaned down, grasped the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it up over her head. It soon landed on top of his shirt. It wasn't until he looked back down that he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. He lost no time in closing his lips around one pert nipple, convinced it was taunting him and daring him to touch it.

Tris moaned lightly under him at the feel of his lips encasing her hard nipple, the wetness of his tongue as he suckled her and the bite of his teeth as he bit down gently. Her pelvis bucked up to him, silently demanding attention, too. She wound her fingers into his short hair, holding him to her breast. Her fingernails scraped his scalp lightly, sending shivers rippling down his back and causing him to groan against her nipple.

"Four," she rasped, breathlessly.

Four's hand found itself at the top of her shorts, and he pulled on the button, popping it easily, and sliding his fingers in, causing the zipper to lower at the bulk of his hand. He immediately came into contact with her heated core.

"Shit," he moaned as a finger glided smoothly over her slick folds. Tris lifted her hips, trying to maneuver him deeper into her as he added another digit to the one already drenched in her juices.

"Oh God, Four," she cried out. She pulled him from her breast and brought his lips to her, demanding more, taking more.

Four pulled away from her lips. "Tris, are you gonna be loud?" he asked with an amused smile.

She grinned up at him. "There is a possibility," she said as she squirmed under his touch and shuddered as he fleetingly touched her clit. "How about you?" she asked.

"God, I hope so," he laughed, then attacked her neck with his lips. _Wait,_ he thought, _I was going somewhere with this question, wasn't I?_

He pulled his head back when he remembered. "We have to get fulling in the room," he said as he lifted his lips to just below her ear. "And shut the door," he added before placing his lips where his breath had just been.

Tris lifted her head slightly and laughed as she realized they were sprawled across the doorway to her room, the door still ajar. "Maybe that's a good idea. Al can be a bit of a prev."

"Al?" Four looked at her. "One of the guys from the alley?"

Tris nodded. "His room is just over there," she said indicating with her head over his shoulder, liking the territorial look she found in his eye.

"Then move your ass, Blondie," he said and he pulled away from her body, so he was again kneeling between her legs.

Tris grinned at him as she sat up and grabbed hold of the top of his jeans, dipping her fingers slightly beneath the waistband. Then she started to wriggle back a little, moving further into the room, pulling Four by his jeans as he followed her on his knees, her shorts sliding down as they moved, pooling around her calves.

When her shorts were against Four's knees, he stumbled a little against the material; his hand landing on Tris's hip to steady him.

"Sorry," he said with a smile.

"I think the door can close now," she said looking over his shoulder.

Four tipped his head and agreed with a grunt.

Tris reached out with her leg to knock the door with her toe, but her movements were limited due to the shorts around her lower limbs.

Four smiled at her as he pushed her back down onto the floor. He lifted the leg she was trying to shut the door with, bending it at the knee, and, with only a small amount of difficulty from him and incredible flexibility from her, he pulled her leg free of her shorts.

Tris grinned at him as she stretched her leg out again. This time, she concentrated, and the air around the door shifted, pulsating with energy. The molecules stopped moving, and the very fabric of the space around the door altered, as if it bent in on itself. Then she tapped the door slightly with her toe, and the air shifted again, bouncing back into place and the door slammed shut with force. Her eyes shifted nervously to Four to see if he had noticed the change in the air, but he was too busy freeing her other leg from her shorts, and they flew over her head to join their tops.

Four stared down at the body that was laid out before him, and he shook with a raw emotion he couldn't understand. Oh, he understood the need, the want, and the lust, but there was something else that smoldered just below the surface of his emotions that he couldn't comprehend. She was smiling up at him; a lazy, sexy smile that shot straight to his groin and made his dick twitch in anticipation.

"You're overdressed," she stated, her fingers dancing on the zipper of his jeans. She moved to sit up, ready to rectify that.

"Wait," Four said, his voice low and sensual.

Tris raised her eyebrow at him. "Wait!" she returned incredulously.

He smirked at her as he again pushed her back onto the floor. "I just want to look at you a moment."

Tris relaxed back onto the floor again, her lips twisting into a smile as she watched him rake his eyes over her. For a second, she felt nervous having his gaze linger on her naked body. Old insecurities raced through her mind and she took a calming breath as discretely as she could, willing her mind to be in the present not the past. She felt her anxiety pass and the tension leave her muscles.

She lifted her right hand and trailed it up her body, lightly touching the side of her breast as she watched his eyes widen. He slapped her hand away, and she chuckled low in her throat.

His eyes wandered over her body, and he licked his lips, causing Tris to squirm more before him. Finally he placed his hands on her body, feather light touches to her abdomen and sides that made Tris moan and shiver. He brushed his fingers against her breasts, following their natural curve, pressing lightly against the plumpness and cupping them as if to feel the weight, liking the way they fit neatly into his hands. His thumbs brushed against her nipples delicately, circling to include her areolas.

Tris had to close her eyes, the sensations running through her body too much. She wanted to watch him as he devoured her body with his eyes and caressed her with reverence. His hands lowered, sweeping softly against her skin, and his fingers glided over her, touching her seemingly everywhere at once. He stopped his movement again as the heels of his hands came to rest on her hip bones.

"Interesting tattoo," he said as he bent forward and licked the area marred with ink, a black circle with a blazing flame of skin within it, just slightly to the left above her pubic bone. "What does it mean?"

"It means danger," she breathed out haltingly, the feel of his lips so close to where she desperately needed them almost too much for her.

Four lifted his head slightly and smirked at her. "Does that mean you, or what's below the tatt?"

Tris chuckled a little at his insinuation, both to her and her lady parts. "Only time will tell," she replied cryptically.

Four lowered his eyes to her body again, pleased he was now closer to her skin. He frowned slightly as a thin, stark white line that traced beneath her right breast came into view. It was faint so he hadn't noticed it when he was kneeling above her, and he reached a finger out, tracing the scar and wondering how she had gotten it. As he understood it, the units healed completely, leaving no scars, as he did not have one from his gunshot wound. "And this?" he whispered, his breath tickling her.

Tris shuddered and flicked her eyes to his. He was studying intently at the scar. "Bad puppy," she said softly, almost hesitantly. He looked up into her eyes to find they were dark, almost stormy, with an emotion he didn't understand. He pulled back slightly, his eyes again roaming over her. He saw another scar line across her ribs, low on her body, and another just above the hip bone on her left side. The more he looked, the more scars he saw crisscrossing all over her torso, some more noticeable than others but there not the less. Even her forearms where slightly blemished. He looked back at her, to find her eyes closed. He wasn't sure he believed a puppy would scar her like this, and he filed it away with other questions to be asked at a later date.

Tris opened her eyes again and smiled at him, their depths clear now, blazing with excitement. "Four," she whimpered, wriggling a little, bringing his attention back to her.

He smiled softly and he leaned up to her, kissing her fervently, his hand finally returning to her heated core, and he brushed his fingers against her again, slipping way too easily into her.

"God, yes," she breathed out, her hips lifting a little from the floor and into his touch.

"You're so hot," he whispered against her shoulder where he was sucking not so gently.

"So are you," she chuckled, her hands brushing over his wide muscular back. She shifted her arms so she could reach further down and slid both her hands into the back of his jeans, pulling him closer to her.

"Four," she moaned as his fingers stroked her clit oh-so-lightly, then they danced away again, moving lower and back inside her body. "We need to get rid of these," she said, pulling on his jeans as she opened her legs a little wider, giving him more access to her.

"Shit, Tris," Four grunted, feeling her juices running down his hand. _Now how was he supposed to remove his pants without moving his hand from her?_

While his mind was trying to come up with a solution to his problem, Tris shifted her knees up. Again, the air shifted around them, and in a flash, she moved, and Four was on his back, the wind rushing from his lungs and a bewildered looked on his face as he stared up at the woman above him, straddling his thighs and unfastening his jeans.

"Holy fuck, you can move," he said, his grin wide as she pulled his zipper down.

"You have no idea," she laughed.

He lifted his hips so she could tug his jeans down as much as she could with her body restricting the movement. She pulled both jeans and boxers together, and finally he was free, his dick waving at her invitingly, hard and pulsing.

"Fuck, Four, you're huge," she groaned before catching her bottom lip between her teeth. He had looked big earlier when she had blatantly ogled him in the unit, but now she was closer she could say without a doubt he was huge, very impressive, and her insides quaked in anticipation of what he would feel like buried deep within her.

She looked at him to see him watching her intently with a wicked smile. Her hand reached out, and she took hold of his dick firmly, pumping slowly as Four let his head drop back to the floor with a slight bang. "God, Tris," he said, his eyes closing at the feel of her small hand surrounding his dick. He pushed his hips up, forcing himself more into her touch, and she added a little more pressure.

"Is this okay?" she whispered and giggled softly at his quick nod. Her thumb swept quickly over the head, catching the moisture already glistening there, and Four moaned deep in his throat. Tris leaned forward and blew over the top of his sensitive dick, watched as it twitched in her hand, and chuckled when Four cussed loudly. She brought her lips to the tip, kissing it almost chastely, and Four had to laugh at that. When she heard him, she lifted her head to grin wickedly at him, and then she lowered her head again taking him fully into her mouth. She sucked softly on the tip and then moved lower, her lips gliding easily over his length.

"Oh shit, Tris," Four groaned at the feel of her hot mouth surrounding him. "Oh yeah," he added when she moved up and down, her hand pumping him from the base, her mouth providing a delicious mix of pressure and softness.

"Fuck," he said and pulled at her arm. She lifted her head from him, her eyes concerned.

"What?" she asked. Four shook his head.

"Now, Tris," he said hoarsely, his eyes dark with his need. "I need to be in you," he pulled her body up his so he could kiss her, deep and hard. "Now."

He watched as Tris's bright eyes seemingly change color, darkening several shades until they appeared almost black, and she grinned back at him and agreed softly, "Now."

Four just nodded and watched as Tris inched back down his body, her lips grazing against his chest, lifting her hips so she could skim her core against his hard member until she was resting again against his thighs just above where his jeans remained. He could feel her wetness on his thighs, and he growled at the sensation.

He'd had enough with the foreplay, and he just wanted to bury himself in her hot, wet center. He lifted his upper body, his hands on her hips, and he shifted her, moving her forward as she held his dick while he pulled her down onto him, impaling her in one swift stroke.

Four watched as Tris's face contorted into a dozen emotions at once, but the most prominent one being bliss, pure bliss and he would have bet serious money that his own face mirrored hers. She looked far better than any erotica he had ever seen, sitting there with his dick buried deep inside her, stretching her most intimate places, her eyes dark with need and lust, her lips swollen from his kisses and slightly open, her nipples pert and begging to be touched. And the best part was that she was his.

"Mine," he growled before he could stop himself, and Tris looked at him in surprise, her mind racing at his implication. She could feel her brain start to work, trying to reason out that one word, _mine_ , but she shook her head, pushing the thoughts away. This wasn't exactly the right time or place for deep and meaningfully conservations with herself.

"Shit, Four," Tris gasped out as a smile spread across her face.

"Did I hurt you, babe?" he asked, suddenly thinking of the force he had used to get her where she was.

Tris just shook her head as she savored the feel of his steel hard dick inside her. His hands on her moved around to clasp her ass, and he rocked her forward. "I need you to move, Tris," he hissed.

Tris moved her hands to his chest, her fingers dancing through the thin covering of hair before brushing against his nipples, and she twisted one lightly between her fingers as she pressed down on her hands and began moving above him, slowly and gently.

Four's head hit the floor again at the feel of her moving above him, his dick moving easily within her slick walls. He hissed when her nails dug into his chest as she moved more, her hips rolling and pumping against him. His eyes were drawn to where they bodies crashed against each other, and he watched mesmerized as her body swallowed him over and over again.

"More," he said, breathing hard.

"More!" she answered with her eyebrow raised. At his wordless nod she increased her pace.

"Oh shit, Four," she panted.

"Yeah," he grinned, one hand gripped her hard on her hip, the other lifted to caress a breast, pinching her nipple. He sat up quickly, changing the angle of his shaft within her as his lips latched onto her other breast, and Tris's head fell back in pleasure.

"Oh fuck," she cried, his dick hitting her in just the right place as his teeth grazing her nipple. She clung to him desperately, her body moving as if independently of her mind.

"I need more, Tris," Four said, against her breast.

"Okay," she said simply and pulled his face closer to her, kissing him gently, despite the frantic movements of their lower bodies.

He moved her, rolling them so she was beneath him and didn't even break his stroke.

"You okay?" he asked softly, looking down at her, his body slowing slightly. He needed to make sure she was all right before he really went for it.

She looked up at him, her hands on his sides, stroking gently. "Fuck, yeah," she grinned. She watched as his eyes closed at the new sensations brought on by their different position. She moved her legs, wrapping one around him, as he lifted the other up high against his ribs, opening her more, and he sank deeper into her. He leaned down to her, moving against her as she answered him thrust for thrust, his lips crashing against hers, their hips meeting again and again, demanding, persistent, and unrelenting.

He pulled away, breathing hard against her shoulder, his movements never haltering.

"Harder, Four," she panted, her hands again reaching for his ass, pulling him against her, "More, oh God, please more."

"Shit, Tris, yeah" he growled as he moved faster, pounding into her at a ferocious pace. He moved his hand to grab hers from where she had grabbed his ass. He entwined his fingers with hers and moved theirs hands up and over her head, his other hand on the floor beside her body, holding as much weight off her as he could.

Tris's heart rate rapidly increased in her chest at this movement and she twisted her hand held in his above her head, pulling it roughly and sharply from his grasp, releasing his hold on her and placing her hand on his ribs instead. He seemed unfazed by her quick movement, or even unaware of it.

She moved her other hand to rest on his shoulder as she smiled at the feel of him hammering deeper and deeper into her, and that blessed swirling sensation began to build within her.

Their bodies slid easily against each other, their sweat mingling and becoming one, as their bodies became one.

"Four," she whimpered and she closed her eyes, her face a picture of pure pleasure.

"God, you're so tight, so fucking good," Four growled and she opened her eyes to look at him again as she contracted her inner muscles around his length. "Oh God, Tris, you feel fucking amazing."

"You…feel…amazing," she answered in an haltering breath as he pushed her harder and harder, their bodies moving hard against the floor with every thrust, and Tris shivered at the feeling, thankful her back was healed.

"So close," he said, his lips on her neck, sucking and biting.

"Yes! God, yes," was all she could answer with, her body ready to explode.

Four could feel his body balancing on the edge, leaning over, and just waiting for her to join him.

"Shit, Four, you're so good, I…I…," and then she exploded, his name falling from her lip in an unrecognizable exclamation.

"Tris," was all he could articulate as he followed her over the edge, exploding within her, her walls milking him as he fell freely with her. He thrust into her a few more times before he collapsed upon her, no longer able to keep his weight off her and burying his head in her neck.

They breathed in sync with each other, as if their hearts had mated together just as their bodies had, both trying desperately to catch their breath and regain some sort of control. Four could feel her legs twitching around him and even her inner muscles convulsed slightly in time to their hearts, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close to her.

Four turned his head slightly and tipped it back so he could see her. She still had her eyes closed, her lips parted, and a thin sheen of sweat covering her. Her breasts rose with each intake of inhale and he found it intoxicating. He was still buried deep inside her, and his dick twitched again.

Tris smiled when she felt his tiny movement within her, and she couldn't resist moving her hips against him.

Four couldn't even move, he just groaned and smiled at her. She opened her eyes and turned her head to his.

"You know," she said breathlessly, "I was under the impression you had good stamina."

"Yeah, usually," he breathed out, his breath tickling her neck.

"That's false representation, buddy," she said, running her hand up and down his back.

"Give me a minute," he said, then kissed her neck. "I was shot yesterday. You do remember that, don't you?"

"A poor excuse if ever I heard one," she responded with a laugh.

He traced his fingers along her upper arm and onto her breast, stroking the side gently.

"You are incredible," he stated, his voice slightly in awe.

"You're not too bad yourself," she replied, her hand moving to his ass.

He looked down to the place where their bodies were still joined "I'd better move," he said but still didn't make any movement.

"Yeah, probably," she said slowly, though one leg was still wrapped around him and the other caught under his body. Four moved his hand further down her body to her hip and then along the length of her thigh wrapped around him. "You have the most fabulous legs."

Tris tilted her head to him. "You think?" she asked.

"God damn, Tris, I know," he said, "I knew the moment I saw you in that club." He reached over and kissed her tenderly. "Shit, the whole club knew it."

Tris giggled, "I was always told to show off my best attributes."

"One of many," he said with a grin as his hand palmed her breast.

She chuckled low in her throat at his innuendo.

"The very air stopped in that club when I saw your legs, you know," he continued, his hand constantly moving over her. "I could hardly breathe."

Tris looked at him, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Really?" she queried. "The air stopped moving?"

"Corny, I know," he said with a laugh. "Don't hold it against me. It probably won't happen again."

Tris laughed nervously, but luckily Four had fastened his lips around her nipple so he didn't catch it.

"Four," she shivered. "We need to get up from the floor. It's kinda hard."

Four looked up at her. "Not yet, Tris, but it won't take long," he said wriggling his eyebrows.

She laughed at him, slapping his shoulder half-heartedly. "Move it."

Four finally moved away from her, moving her legs from him and pulling his half flaccid member from her, both of them moaning at the loss.

"Shit," Four said looking down, his eyes drawn to their combined fluid that trickled from her.

Tris leaned up on her elbows. "What's wrong?"

He looked at her, "I'm sorry, Tris. We forgot the condom."

"Shit," Tris echoed, and she, too, looked down at herself and then at him.

"Are we okay?" he asked, his eyebrow raised.

"I'm on the pill, if that's what you're asking," she said as she sat up more. Four rocked on his heels and stood up and then laughed.

"What?" she asked, also standing.

"Not only did we forget the condom, but I didn't even get my shoes and socks off."

Tris chuckled as she took him in, standing in front of her with his jeans and boxers around his thighs and his shoes still on.

"Well, you better get rid of them if you want to join me in the shower," she said as she walked away and headed to a door on the other side of the room.

Four walked over to the huge bed along one side of the vast room. "Shit, Tris, I think your room is bigger than my apartment." He heard Tris's low laugh from the bathroom.

It was an impressive room, tastefully decorated with expensive-looking furniture. The large bed that dominated the room looked like even he could get lost in it, and there was an expanse of windows along one side letting in the late afternoon sunshine. At least, he thought it was late afternoon. He heard the shower start and quickly took off his shoes and socks. He removed his jeans and boxers and laid them across a piece of furniture he thought was called a chaise longue, but he would never admit to anyone he knew that. Pulling his wallet out the back pocket of his jeans, he opened it and took the couple of condoms out he had stored in there, not sure if she would have any. He dropped them on the bed on his way to the bathroom.

Even the bathroom was over large. It had a sunken tub along one wall with a double vanity across from it, while the third wall housed an incredible walk-in shower and a door that obviously led to the toilet. He opened the door to the shower and stepped through.

"Shit, Babe," he said. "Can I move into your shower?"

The shower had two big shower heads and seven more that jutted out from different points of the walls, one clearly removable. There were built-in shelves in the tiled wall that held bottle upon bottle of Tris's shower necessities. She obviously thought she needed that many bottles for that perfect shower, there was even a music system in the wall. A large tiled bench was strategically located across the side of the shower.

She laughed when she saw him eye the bench. "I can be extremely lazy sometimes," she said.

"I bet," he laughed.

Tris stood under one of the shower heads and looked at him as he stood under the other.

"I bet you can fit ten people in here," he said in awe.

"More like 12," she countered with a smile.

"Can I ask you something?" Tris said before tipping her head back slightly and running her fingers through her wet hair.

"Sure," he said, the warm water cascading around his body

Tris looked back at him and her eyes caught on a rivet of water, and she tracked it with her eyes, moaning slightly when it finally disappeared into the dark curls surrounding his semi-hard dick.

"Tris," he prompted with a smile.

"Mmmm," she said, slowly bringing her eyes back to him. "Oh right," suddenly remembering she was talking. "Do you often have sex without a condom?" she asked, and then she turned to grab some shower gel from the shelf.

Four watched her pour some sweet-smelling gel onto a sponge and rub it over her body. He was mesmerized as his eyes followed the soap suds as they glided over her body sensually.

"Four," she laughed, watching his face as he watched her.

"Yeah, what?" he said, snapping out of his haze to look into her radiant hazel eyes. He shook his head. "Sorry, no, not as a rule. I don't have sex without a condom, but there may have been a couple of exceptions to that rule." He took a step toward her, no longer able to keep away, his hand following the suds. "How about you?"

She shook her head, a smile on her face, leaning into his touch a little.

"Do you want me to get tested?" he asked, sliding his hand down to her ass.

"Do you mind?" she asked, bringing the sponge to his body and rubbing it gently across his chest.

"Not at all," he answered, sighing at her gentle caresses as she washed him. "A person has to protect themselves."

"I get tested every six months," she provided. "Dauntless policy. For STD's and drugs."

"Okay," he said.

"You can check my most recent results with Tori, if you want," she offered as she kneeled in front of him, washing his legs.

"No need, Tris," he said, as she swept up the inside of his leg with the sponge. "I'll make an appointment at my clinic as soon as I leave here."

Tris looked up from where she knelt between his legs, "Tori can do it for you. And you'll get the results quicker than if you use a clinic."

"You think she'll do it for me?" he asked as he held a hand to her face.

"Yeah, she'll do it," Tris said as she dropped the sponge and took his dick in her hand. She glanced up at him as she moved her hand in slow, torturous strokes and watched his eyes close as he leaned into her a little. She gripped him a little harder increasing the pressure but didn't speed up her movements and smiled when he groaned with frustration. She trailed her other hand from his hip around to grip his ass, digging her nails in slightly and he growled low in his throat and pushed further into her hand, trying to make her go faster. She ignored his silent request and continued at an agonizing slow pace.

"Fuck, Tris," he growled out. "Faster."

Tris just smiled mischievously up at him and blew across the tip slowly.

"You're killing me here, babe," he said low.

"Torture's a bitch," she laughed.

"Yeah, but I have to admit," he twisted a hand into her wet hair, "I love your torture method."

"Yeah," she smiled with a raised eyebrow.

"Shit, yeah," he sighed. He couldn't really believe it, but he thought he was actually gonna burst without her speeding up, and he had never cum through slow movements before. Just with her on her knees between his legs, her delicate hand encasing him and her luscious lips so close to his dick was sending him dangerously close to the tipping point.

"You know payback's a bitch, too, right?" he asked with a smile.

"God, I hope so," she countered and leaned forward a little to lick just above her hand on the underside of his manhood; wet, short, torturous flicks of her tongue. Four moaned in response to this new torture, the feeling of his release building already.

"Oh God, Tris, just… please," he said.

"Please what?" she asked, looking up at him from under her lashes, surprising demurely.

"Please just… anything, babe, just… please," Four begged, this was also something new to him: him begging. Normally, it was whichever woman he was with that did the begging.

"I think I like you begging, Four, though it would be better if you on your knees," she looked down at his dick again, "though that would make this harder to do." And she took his dick into her mouth and pumped her hand quicker. She moved her mouth up and down over his velvet flesh in a steady rhythm, sucking every time she reached the top. Four wound his other hand into her hair, trying hard not to force himself further into her mouth. He knew he was bigger than the average man, and he didn't want to hurt her. It wasn't long before he felt the familiar tightening in his balls, and he held Tris's head gently, pulling her from him. He just managed to twist his hips away from her face when he exploded into the air, his semen landing on the shower floor and washing away.

"Four," Tris pouted. "That's twice you've denied me."

 _Oh shit,_ Four thought, watching her pout, panting slightly from his orgasm. _Now that is an evil weapon._

"Tris," he said tenderly, helping her up off her knees, "I don't want to cum inside you without a condom until you've got the results of my test."

"A bit late for that, isn't it?" she laughed as she stretched up against his body.

"Yeah, and I'm sorry," he said, holding her cheek in his hand.

"We were both involved, Four, you can't take all the blame on yourself."

Four nodded and pulled her to him to kiss her passionately. His hands moved gently over her back, caressing her, until he reached her ass and then lifted her into his arms.

He pulled away and looked into her eyes, so open and full of passion. "What are the chances one of those shelves holds some condoms?"

Tris leaned in to kiss his neck, sucking softly on his pulse point. "Second shelf, waterproof box, near the back."

"You know, you are unbelievable," he said with a smirk.

"It has been mentioned a couple of times," she said with a sexy grin. He moved her over to the wall beside the shelves and braced her there so he could reach for the box she indicated. She hissed slightly at the feel of the cool tiles behind her back, and he smirked again at her. It took him a minute or two, but eventually, his hand came away with a foil packet between his fingers. Of course, it would have been easier if she hadn't have been intent on leaving her mark on his body, just above his left nipple.

He kissed her deeply again as he ground his rapidly hardening dick into her, one hand on her ass with a condom between his fingers, holding her against the wall. His other hand tightly gripped her thigh, and he trailed it upward until he reached the apex of her legs, gently caressing her.

Tris's head snapped back against the wall at the feel of his fingers against her clit.

"Shit," she moaned, and Four chuckled against her shoulder.

Tris wound her hand between their bodies as well and clasped his dick, pumping quicker than she did earlier. It only took a few strokes, and he was hard and needy again. She took the foil packet from him, opened it quickly and covered his erection with the latex.

She moved his dick to her opening, and Four removed his fingers from her and watched as she guided him into her. When he was halfway inside of her, he lifted her hand away, kissed her palm and placed it on his shoulder and then he watched her intently as pushed all the way in.

"Oh, Four," she said, her voice light, as if in awe. "You fill me completely."

"Is it good?" he asked, not moving yet.

"Soooo good," she answered with a smile. She rotated her hips against him in a slow movement, watching him as she moved against him; he was smiling at her.

"Are you gonna move or are you expecting me to do all the work here?" she asked, with a slow grin.

"Well, you seem to be doing perfectly well on your own," he said with his sexy half smile.

"Please, Four," she whimpered. "Will you just move?"

"Now who's begging?" he said as he latched on to a breast, tasting the shower gel she had used earlier to wash herself, and he moved against her, matching her movements.

"Yes," she let out slowly.

"God, Tris," Four said, pulling away from her breast. "You feel so good."

"Mmmm, you too," she said moving her arm against the wall as if looking for some purchase as he moved quicker, her other arm holding him close.

"It won't be long, babe," he growled against her neck.

"Okay," she said and she moved her free head to her clit and rubbed gently.

"Shit, Tris," Four laughed, slapping her hand away and taking over the job himself, his other hand holding her up between his body and the wall.

"Fuck, yeah," Tris cried, her arm back against the wall.

"Fuck, yeah," he echoed, pounding into her mercilessly now. Scared he was going to drop her, he abandoned her clit and prayed he could finish her without the added stimulation. He held on to her hips, gripping almost painfully, regretting the bruises she would have but unable to stop himself.

Tris's hands grasped at his back, pulling him closer, her nails scraping painfully at his shoulder blades, and she silently cursed the marks she was leaving.

He grinned against her as a string of expletives fell from her lips, followed by, "God, Four. Yes, fuck me."

He couldn't answer her. Hearing her ask him to fuck her sent him into a frenzy, and he was sure he was hurting her as he slammed into her relentlessly. He managed a soft, "Sorry," against her shoulder, though he was unsure if she actually heard him.

Tris moved her hands from his back to turn his head to her, and she kissed him with abandonment. Their tongues battling, echoing their lower bodies until she tore her lips from his with a cry of his name as her orgasm ripped through her.

He followed her straight over the edge when she opened her eyes and looked straight into his. His body pumped into hers a few more times as he filled the condom, watching her flushed face glow and her eyes sparkle, their gaze unmoving.

"Holy fuck, Tris," was all he could say as he finally leaned against her, praying the wall would hold her because he didn't think he could anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

Happy Wednesday, Guys!

So happy to see so many of you enjoyed Chapter Four (no pun intended). I have to admit; it was one of my favorite to write ;)

I've replied to most reviews for the last two chapters via PM but to those who I can't reply to personally, here's a few words.

 **Guest:** Glad you're enjoying the story.

 **Gus:** Thanks!

 **AmityPrincess:** Thanks for the compliments, they mean a lot to me. And yes, Chapter Four was 'deliciously sexy' _love that phrase._ I hope I can keep you excited for more.

 **Guest who wrote** \- holy f*** indeed! I just found this story and I'm already hooked, and that sex scene... SO HOT I need more like yesterday – Thanks, I'm super stoked you liked that scene :D and I love that you're hooked on this story.

 **Bamcn24** : Yes, they are beyond brazen, and your second review made me smile. Thanks.

It always makes me super happy, and I always smile, when I get all your reviews. It encourages me to write more for you guys, and I have to restrain myself from updating more. Since most of this is already written I have to stop myself from posting more, simply because I don't want to reach a point where I'm struggling to meet a deadline for updating a chapter. There is a ton of this re-work that I'm rewriting, adding situations and emotions, which is why I'm holding back from biweekly posts. I am also working on other fics for the Divergent Fandom, which I will post when I have chapters in the bank.

Anyway, enough from me and on to Chapter Five. Remember to post a review after reading, let me know your thoughts, it doesn't take long and its excellent payment. :D

* * *

Chapter Five.

Hours later, Four and Tris lay breathing hard next to each other on her Baroque custom-made bed. The bed's finish was a high gloss walnut with an elegant inlaid pattern of cream suede, and Four had been right. The bed was so large, even his tall, broad body was lost within it. They turned their heads to each other at the same time and laughed, the moonlight seeping through the thin gossamer material at the windows, dancing shadows upon their glistening bodies.

"Now _that_ was intense," Tris said with a grin.

"You're kidding me, right?" Four answered with his half smile. "We've been at this most of the afternoon and all evening. We've nearly used a box of condoms, and that last time was intense?"

Tris just nodded, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "That thing you did with your tongue! Oh. My. God. Words can't even describe..."

"You liked that, huh?" he asked rolling on to his side to look at her sprawled recklessly across the bed.

She nodded enthusiastically, her dazzling smile growing, and Four feared he would strive to it see time and time again.

"Well, it was a thank you for the thing YOU did with your tongue," he returned, reaching out and stroking the breast nearest to him.

"Then we're even?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Until next time," Four confirmed.

"Next time," Tris agreed.

They looked at each other for a few moments, and then Tris turned her body to the clock beside her bed.

"Holy shit, it's after 11!" she exclaimed as she looked back at Four. "We've missed dinner. Shit, and it was lasagna tonight," she added with that pout.

"We were kinda busy, Tris," Four said with a laugh, thinking most women won't admit they have an appetite, but then again, Tris was definitely not most women.

"Let's go raid the kitchen," she whispered as she sat up.

"Why are you whispering?" Four questioned, his voice as low as hers.

"Because Greg is a dictator about his kitchen, and he won't allow me in," she mumbled, again with that blessed pout, and God help him, his dick responded again.

"You have a cook?" Four asked, ignoring her glancing at the movement of his lower regions.

Tris snapped her head back up to his face. "Don't call him a cook, Four, he'll boil you alive. He's a renowned French chef."

"The Dauntless really looks after its employees, eh?" he asked impressed.

"Only the best for the best, Four," she answered. She pushed him gently against his shoulder, rolling him on to his back, and then moved closer, settling her head on his chest, her arm across his taut abdomen and one leg entwined between his.

Four grinned as he brought his arms around to hold her closer to him. "I thought we were going to raid the kitchen?" he probed, quite content to stay exactly where they were.

"In a minute," she replied softly, her fingers moving lazily over his chest and the black ink that curled around his ribs from his back.

When she had seen his back after showering, she had been momentarily mesmerized. He had an impressive tattoo that practically covered his entire back, black flames that danced over the smooth expanse, with tendrils rising up to his neck, over his shoulders, and around his ribs. To look at his bare chest from the front, you would just see a teasing of the artwork that hinted at what was on his back. The only part that was ink free was the column of skin over his spine. That remained untouched and Tris had wondered, briefly, why?

Now, they lay together for a few minutes in each other's arms, each with their own thoughts.

"Have you decided yet?" Tris asked eventually, her voice low as if reluctant to break the silence.

"Tris, I've kinda had my mind on other things," he laughed low, knowing she was asking about his decision to join Dauntless.

"Okay," she said. "But you will think about it, won't you?" she continued, tipping her head up to look at him.

He looked into her eyes again and felt truly mesmerized. "Yes, Tris, I'll think about it."

"Good," she said and then she stretched up and kissed him, slowly and sensually, her hand gently rubbing the stubble on his cheek.

They pulled away when there was a hard knock against her door.

Tris sighed. "I knew it was too good to be true," she mumbled against his lips. She turned her head. "Yes?" she called out.

"Tris, your mutt wants in," Caleb's voice called through the wood.

Tris smiled to Four, kissed him again, a kiss that promised more, and then sat up and pulled the comforter over them both.

"Come in, I'm decent," she called out, settling herself against the pillows.

"That's debatable," Caleb retorted with a huff. "What about Eaton?"

"Oh, he's completely indecent," Tris smirked.

The door opened to show Caleb wearing a disapproving look as he took in the two on the bed. There was a flash of white as Tris's dog ran through the door, jumped up onto the furniture, and then stood, stock still, a low growl emanating from him.

Caleb laughed as Tris's dog bared his teeth to Four.

"Jacob," Tris called softly, "it's okay." She leaned forward with the comforter wrapped tightly around her and stroked behind the dog's ear soothingly.

Jacob took a step toward Four and growled again.

"No, Jacob," Tris chided, holding her finger out to him, and the dog turned to her. He sauntered between her and Four and laid down, his eyes holding Four's the entire time, skeptically.

"He can be a bit protective," she said with wry grin to Four.

"A bit," Caleb laughed from the doorway. "That dog is the best guard dog for your virtue I've ever known."

"Oh," Tris said and beamed. "My virtue. I like that." And then she laughed.

Four lay stiffly on the bed watching the dog. "He won't actually bite me, will he?" he asked Tris, never taking his eyes off the dog.

"No, not really," she said and she scratched her dogs ears again.

'Okay, I'll be going now," Caleb said, and he turned, then walked off down the corridor.

"Thanks for closing the door," Tris shouted after him.

"Get off your lazy ass, and do it yourself," they heard from further down the corridor.

Tris mumbled to herself as she climbed out of the bed and sauntered over to shut the door. She looked back to see Four eyeing her appreciatively. "How about we raid the kitchen now?" she asked with a smile.

"Good idea," Four said as he leapt from the bed. Tris found her clothes on the floor and pulled them on as Four did the same.

"We could stop by Tori's room to see about the test if you want," she commented as she watched him though hooded lids. She wasn't sure if he really wanted to take the test, but if he did, that could mean they would be doing this again. And she really wanted to do him again and again and again.

"Will she still be awake?" Four asked looking at the clock.

"Oh please, Tori hardly ever sleeps," she responded with a wave of her hand.

"Then I think it's a very good idea, because the next time I'm inside you, I want it to be latex free," he reasoned as he stepped closer to her.

"God, yeah," she agreed as she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to bring some order to it and silently thanking the gods he had admitted there would be a next time.

Four closed the distance between them, his hand reaching out for her arm, then drawing her closer to him. Instantly, Jacob sprang up from the bed and raced over to him, growling and snarling, his teeth snapping viciously.

Four pulled his hand back quickly. "Shit, Tris," he said as he eyed the dog nervously. "What kind of dog is he?"

"He's a Jack Russell, and he's just a little wary of you, that's all."

"Will I ever be able to touch you again with him around?" he asked seriously.

"Of course," she laughed, and she held her hand out to him. After he hesitantly took it, she pulled him to her into a kiss with Jacob only growling low in his throat. When they broke apart, Four looked down to the dog where he stood beside Tris. "So if you initiate, he's okay?" Four asked.

"Yes," she said running her hand along Four's still bare chest, still in his embrace. "But if you hang around long enough, and touch me often enough, I guess he'll get used to you."

"So I need to touch you a lot to get the dog used to me, right?" he asked with a slow grin.

"Exactly," Tris answered with a nod.

Four held her head, softly, and whispered against her lips, "I guess I can do that," and they kissed, again to a low growl from Jacob.

They pulled back and watched each other for a second.

"I'm hungry," Tris stated low.

"For food?' Four asked with a raised eyebrow.

"For now," Tris answered with a half-smile and a shrug.

"I think you're insatiable," Four acknowledged with a laugh.

"And you say it like it's a bad thing," Tris replied with that pout.

"Shit, Tris, that pout should be illegal."

Tris laughed. "You're not the first one to suggest that," she said as she stepped out of his arms and bent to pick his shirt up. She handed it to him, and he slipped it on but was unable to fasten it properly as there were several buttons missing.

"Let's go," Tris said as she turned to the door. Jacob made to follow her and she turned back to him. "No, you stay here," she instructed and pointed to a plush dog bed over to the side of the room. "Go to bed."

Jacob looked once more to Four, growled low, but then turned and walked dejectedly over to his bed, settling down with his head in his paws, a long, sad whine emanating from him.

"You have him trained pretty well," Four noted as they left her room. "How long have you had him?"

"Since I was 14," she answered as they walked down the corridor.

"And how long ago was that?" he probed gently.

Tris grinned at him. "I'm 23, Four," she said, knowing what he was asking without him actually saying it.

Four nodded.

"And you're 27," she added.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"Oh, please, this is Dauntless. They probably have your bank details, social security number, password to your computer, and inside leg measurement."

"Shit," he said with a weak smile.

"Uncle Mason probably knows more about you than you know yourself." She stopped at a door and rapped quickly on it.

Four shook his head, "I can't believe you're a Prior."

"Why not?" she asked turning to him while they waited for the door to be answered.

"You're just so," he searched for the right words, "confident and strong yet delicate and unassuming and…"

The door opened to show the small, dark haired woman he had met earlier. "You can't possibly be talking about Tris, because that's just so not true," Tori grinned at the two of them.

"Yeah, you forgot to say hot, sexy, stimulating, and insatiable," Tris teased.

"Well, that just goes without saying, doesn't it?" Four offered with a knowing smile.

"How about demanding, opinionated, spoiled, bitchy, and a pain in the ass?" Tori added with her own amused smirk as she looked at her watch. "Seven hours," she paused, "that's got to be a new record."

Tris looked quizzically at her friend. "Seven hours?" she asked.

"Since you were last seen dry humping against a wall downstairs," she countered with a snort of laughter.

"Shit," Four exclaimed. "We've been having sex for seven hours? It's no wonder we're starving."

"And overstimulated," Tris beamed.

"Too much information," Tori said, waving her arms in front of her.

"We did have a two-hour break when you fell asleep," Tris remarked to Four, patting him sympathetically on the arm.

"Tori, would you please explain to this poor girl that recovering from a gunshot wound can seriously lower your performance levels?" Four asked, his expression firm.

"Hey buddy, I know what it's like to be shot," Tris cried indignantly. "You just can't keep up with me."

Tori watched the two in front of her, her head turning from one to the other like she was watching a tennis match. "Okay, stop," she cried out holding her hand up. "What can I do for you at this hour?"

"Can you give Four one of the Dauntless tests?" Tris asked.

Tori eyed Four. "Do you think you need one?" she asked

"Well, we kinda had a non-latex moment, and Four admits he may have had a couple since his last test," Tris answered for him. "I checked out okay, right?"

"Right," Tori confirmed, answering Tris's question before turning to Four. "Okay, that's not a problem."

"Can you do it tonight?" Four asked.

"Please," Tris added.

"Tris," Tori drawled with exasperation.

"Please," Tris said with her puppy eyes and her pout.

"Ah," Tori exclaimed with glee. "I'm immune to that pout, remember."

"Shit," Tris moaned, her eyes slanting sideways. "We've gotta get more gay women in here," she said only half in jest.

Tori shook her head at her friend. "Go and get something to eat, I'll meet you there," she said with a smile.

"Thanks, Tori," and Tris pulled Four away before she could change her mind.

…

Tris led Four to the vast kitchen and started looking in the pantry as he wandered around the room.

"This beats the kitchen at the precinct downtown," he said with a smile.

Tris waved a hand to him from inside the pantry.

"Four, check the fridge," she instructed him impatiently.

Four turned and walked over to the wall of stainless steel refrigerators that filled one side of the kitchen. "Which one?" he mumbled low.

He pulled open a couple until he called out, "Hey, Tris, over here."

Tris came out of the pantry with a cracker hanging from her lips and an open box in her hand.

Four eyed her munching on the cracker.

"What?" she blurted, walking over to him. "I'm hungry, and it's your fault buddy."

Four grinned at her. "Okay, I'll take the blame," he said and then pointed into the fridge.

Tris's eyes followed his hand until she saw two large covered plates, one with a post it stuck onto its lid. She pulled it off and read the note.

 _Four,_

 _Three minutes on high in the microwave._

 _Don't let that She-Devil touch my appliances,_

 _Greg._

Tris laughed. "God, I love Greg," she exclaimed, pulling the plates off the shelf and over to the counter.

Four watched her as she uncovered the plates and then smiled when she clapped her hands with glee, her body moving in a little dance as she caught a whiff of their meal.

"Do I need to worry about this Greg guy?" he asked as he took over and brought the plates over to the complicated looking microwave.

Tris looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

Four found the right buttons and, after the appropriate bleeping, he turned back to her and said in a high pitch voice, twirling his fingers close to his head a though playing with a strand of hair, "God, I love Greg."

Tris laughed at him as she walked over to him and into his arms. "Four, Greg is someone who _can_ resist my pout," she said before she placed a soft kiss on his neck.

"Eh?" Four answered, his brows wrinkling in confusion.

"He's gay," she added, her hand wandering beneath his partially fastened shirt. "But now I've got a secret weapon."

"Yeah, and what's that?" he asked, his voice strangely low at her touch.

"You," she said grinning up at him.

"Me?" he asked, pulling back a little from her.

"Yeah," she said turning slightly in his arms at his indication, and he lifted her onto the counter. "I don't think he'd be able to resist anything you ask him."

"What makes you say that?" he enquired, opening her legs so he could stand in between them.

"Oh, I don't know," Tris commented, her eyes devious as she slipped open the few buttons he'd managed to fasten on his shirt and pushed the fabric from his shoulders. "It could be your body," she kissed his chest, "Or your arms," as she dropped a kiss on each bicep, "Your ass," as she grabbed a handful, "Your eyes," as she kissed each eyelid, "Your package," she grinned as she caressed him through his jeans. "But I bet it'll be your lips," she finally quipped. "You have the most delectable bottom lip that just begs to be kissed." And she pulled his head to hers, tugging at his bottom lip with her teeth before kissing him fully, pressing her body into his and getting as close as she could possibly get.

Four laid a hand on her thigh and ran his hand up her smooth skin, slipping his fingers under the material of her shorts again. He gripped her flesh hard as he tried to pull her closer.

"You know, Greg will kill you both if you have sex on his countertops," Tori called as she entered the kitchen to see them kissing fervently, hardly a breath between their bodies just as the microwave pinged.

"That's only because he isn't getting any," Tris retorted with a smile as she pulled away from Four slightly, their lips almost touching still. With a cheeky grin, she added, "Maybe you can help him, Four."

"No way, Blondie," he said pulling further back. "I don't swing both ways."

Tris smiled at him as she again rubbed her hand along the stubble on his cheek, then replaced her hand with her cheek.

"You like that, huh?" Four asked.

Tris nodded. "It feels good, very stimulating."

"I'm not sure it feels as good in more _delicate_ places," he said with a knowing smile.

"You're right," she countered with her own smile.

"Some of us would like to sleep sometime soon," Tori coughed low in her throat as she snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

"Sorry," Four said, and he stepped away from Tris. He noticed the medical tray Tori had placed on the counter. "You gonna do it here?"

"Here is as good as anywhere, if you don't mind?" she answered. "It won't take long," she added as she prepped the needle to take Four's blood.

Four looked around the pristine kitchen, unsure if it was completely hygienic to do the procedure here, but at Tori's impatient look, he shrugged, sitting down at the breakfast bar and holding an arm out to her.

The microwave pinged again as Tori gave him a tight smile and attached the tourniquet to his arm. She positioned the needle against his vein, and Tris turned her back quickly.

"What's wrong, Blondie?" Four asked with a smirk. "Don't tell me you faint at the sight of blood?"

"Oh, please," Tris said, though her back was still to them. "I've seen so much blood it would make your head spin."

Four caught the fleeting look Tori gave her friend, a look full of concern and pity, and Four's brow lifted in silent question.

Tori gave a minuscule shake of her head, dismissing his silent question. "She hates needles," she quietly offered.

Tris busied herself looking at the microwave. "How do you open this fucking thing?" she asked, frustration evident in her voice.

"And she hates to admit she has any fears," Tori added with a smirk to Four, to which he smiled back.

"Try the button that says 'open'," Four called out to Tris.

"' _The button that says open'_ ," Tris muttered under her breath, with a sarcastic tone.

"Ah, I've found it," she suddenly called triumphantly, and the door popped open.

"I did not see that," Tori said, pulling the needle from Four's arm and placing a gauze swab over the tiny puncture wound. "And neither did you if you know what's good for you and Greg asks," she conspired with Four as she lifted his wrist, bending his arm at the elbow to hold the gauze in place. She turned away and placed the tube of blood on the tray. "Actually, it wouldn't surprise me if Greg doesn't have the place fingerprinted in the morning, just to make sure she hasn't touched anything."

"Is she that bad?' Four asked low as he watched Tris carefully bring the plates out of the microwave and over to the breakfast bar and then went in search of cutlery.

"You have no idea," Tori answered Four with a shake of her head. She held up a Band-Aid. "Are you allergic?" she asked.

"Don't you know the answer to that already?" Four replied with a knowing grin.

Tori returned his smirk and then peeled the back off the Band-Aid. "I was being polite."

"Hey, Tori," Tris called from over the other side of the room. "Do you have any idea were mien fuhrer keeps the cutlery?"

"Try through that door to your right," Tori offered as she attached Four's Band-Aid.

She then held up the cotton swab that looked like a huge Q-tip. "Do you want to go to the bathroom for the next bit?"

Four looked at the swab and swallowed hard, he hated this part. He looked around the kitchen. "Nah, here is fine, I guess," and he started to open his jeans.

"Hey, I've found some…," Tris came back, proudly waving the cutlery over her head. "What are you doing?" she asked when she saw him pull his member from his jeans.

"Well, I thought I'd do Tori quick on the counter while you were out the room, Blondie," he joked, his mirth making his eyes sparkle.

"Ha Ha," she answered him as she set the silverware down on the breakfast bar.

She turned to see Tori with a grin before shaking her head, and then she was back to her no-nonsense persona, her eyes hard as steel as she inched forward with the swab.

"Okay, stop," Tris cried out suddenly, her arms out in front of her in a stopping motion. Both Four and Tori swung their heads up to look at her, confusion on their faces.

"You can't do that in here," Tris told them, waving her hand to indicate the swab in Tori's hand. "That's just wrong on so many levels even _ **I**_ can't comprehend it."

"Wow," Tori exclaimed, forgetting for a moment she was still hold Four's manhood in her hand. "Something Tris Prior doesn't approve of!"

"Oh behave, Tori," Tris retorted, pulling Four up from the stool. "Take him to a bathroom. There are somethings I just don't need to see," Tris finished, pushing the two of them toward the door.

"Careful, Tris," Tori snorted, her voice low. "Your Beatrice is showing."

Tris shot her a hard look then turned away as Tori grumbled something to Four as she led him from the kitchen and to an appropriate place for such tortures. Four, holding the fly of his jeans closed, chuckled as he followed.

Tris sat down at the breakfast bar and pulled the plates over to her, scrutinizing the portion sizes and finally settling on the bigger portion.

She decided she couldn't wait for Four and speared a huge slice of lasagna and lovingly brought it to her lips, her eyes closing in bliss as the flavors burst in her mouth as she chewed her dinner.

"The results should be back tomorrow," Tori was saying to Four as they returned. "I'll call you as soon as I have them."

"Let me give you my number," Four offered but then stopped, half-smiling at the doctor. "You've already got it, haven't you?"

Tori just returned his smile and put all her trash in the tray. "You know, I think you are the first, Four," she said turning back to the two in front of her.

"The first what?" Four asked with a raised eyebrow.

"The first to have his dick out in Greg's kitchen," she said deadpan.

"Just don't tell Greg," Tris said with a stern face. "He might ask for a replay."

Tori laughed. "Enjoy your dinner," she said as she left the two alone.

"I like her," Four said as he pulled the stool next to him out for Tris.

"Yeah, she's great," Tris agreed as continued to eat.

"This is pretty good," Four said his eyes wide as he chewed his food.

"Greg is an awesome chef," Tris said with a nod as she took another bite. She jumped off her stool and walked over to a fridge that looked like a massive wine cooler. She opened the door and, bending down, dug deep into the back of the cooler. A few seconds later, she pulled back, waving two bottles of Budweiser in her hand.

"I knew I'd left these here," she said with a dazzling smile.

"You're telling me you don't have a wine cellar?" Four said, indicating with his fork to the huge wine cooler.

"Of course there's a wine cellar," Tris said as though he had been serious. "But we can't keep running up and down the stairs every time we want a bottle of wine. And the beer is usually kept in the bar, but I stashed these..."

"You have a bar?" Four interrupted her, nearly choking on his food.

"Yep," she said as she twisted the tops off the bottles and handed one to him as she took a sip of hers.

"Fully stocked?" Four asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Is there any other way to keep a bar?" she snorted.

"I guess not," Four laughed, taking a drink from his bottle.

"After we've completed a mission, you sometimes need a quiet drink," she admitted. "And other times you need a loud drink and we hit the clubs," she added, with a slight wiggle in her stool that Four took to mean dancing in the clubs as well.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. It was really the first time she had talked about actually being a member of Dauntless, and Four still couldn't quite grasp the fact that this small girl was a ruthless killing machine. Because technically, he knew that every member of Dauntless was trained to kill and kill mercilessly if needed.

"So, what do you do?" Four asked, breaking the silence.

"Do?" she asked quizzically. "I do you," she said with a smile, wriggling her eyebrows up and down.

Four laughed. "What do you do when you're not working a mission or doing me?" he clarified

"Me?" she shrugged, not really wanting to go there yet. "I'm just a lowly Prior woman. I don't do much."

Four nodded at that and finished his lasagna. He noticed Tris pushing the last quarter of hers around her plate. "Do you want that?" he asked pointing to her plate.

She smiled at him and moved her plate over for him. He grinned and polished her last piece off. When he had finished, she collect their dishes and took them over to the sink. "Do you think I'd be safe with the taps?" she asked with a cheeky smile.

"I think you'd be safe," and he watched as she washed their two plates and cutlery and placed them on the drainer. He looked at the big wall clock and was shocked to see it was almost 1 in the morning. He knew he'd have to get moving and found he was reluctant to leave her.

Tris walked back over to him and stood between his legs, leaning into him where he sat in the bar stool. "I guess you'll have to go soon?" she asked, unknowing that she was echoing his own thoughts.

"Yeah, I guess," he said, wrapping his arms around her.

"You don't have to," she said, her head resting against his shoulder. "You can stay here and play with me."

Four groaned and turned her to look at him, stating quietly as he gestured to the house, "I have to go if I'm gonna seriously think about all this. I have to be away from it the think it over. And to be honest, Tris, you're a bit of a distraction."

"Really?" Tris grinned at him.

Four reached out and tenderly moved a piece of stray hair back behind her ear. 'Yes," he said, his voice rough.

"Good," Tris said beaming at him. Her eyes softened and she continued, "I just don't want this day to end."

Four held her face between his hands. "But if it doesn't end, we won't have tomorrow, or the day after or the day after that, and think of all the sex we'd be missing out on."

"Well, if you put it like that," she mumbled and kissed him long and deep with a touch of need in there, as well. She pulled away with a smile and walked over the phone by the door.

Four watched as she pressed a button and then waited; her eyes on him all the time.

"Hi Carlos," she said into the receiver, "I need a car out front to take Detective Eaton home." There was a pause. "Okay, thanks," and she replaced the receiver. "Five minutes," she stated to Four.

"I could have taken a cab," he said as he walked over to her.

"That's not how we treat guests here," she answered as she leaned into his embrace again. They stood there for a minute, Four tenderly stroking Tris's hair and her just holding on to him.

"I'd better go," he whispered, and she nodded. They both turned so they could walk out the kitchen.

They walked through the corridors to the front door, and Four was amazed again at the size of the house. "If I do decide to join, do I get to live here?" he asked as they walked up to the door.

"That's up to you," Tris said and smiled to the man beside the door who Four hadn't even noticed.

"Going out, Miss Tris?" he asked pleasantly.

"Not tonight, Gavin," she answered with a smile. "Detective Eaton is going home."

Gavin nodded, and Four noticed the gun hung in the holster under his jacket. He suddenly remembered his own gun that he had with him last night. Gavin turned to the door and punched a code into the keypad, then twisted the knob and the door opened.

Four and Tris stepped through the door and Tris shivered in the night air.

"It's cold, Tris. Go back inside," Four said, rubbing his hands against her arms.

Tris just shook her head and looked up at Four. "Am I gonna see you again?" she asked quietly.

"Fuck, Tris, the United States Army couldn't keep me from you," he said honestly.

She smiled at that. "You wanna bet?" she asked with a mischievous grin.

"Let's not put it to the test, okay?" he said, returning her grin. "Give me a couple of days, that's all I ask. This is a big decision to make".

"Okay," she nodded and turned her head to see the town car roll to a stop in front of them. Four looked at the car. "Should have guessed you'd have an armored car," he laughed as he eyed the Lincoln BPS.

Tris grabbed his face and turned it back to hers. "You stay safe, Four, or I'm gonna have to kick your ass," she said, her voice serious.

"Yeah, you could always try," he laughed, but he didn't doubt in the least she could give him a good working over despite the height and weight difference. He'd seen her move, after all.

Four closed the gap between them and kissed her, slowly, and with such tenderness it made her heart ache.

She shivered again, and he wasn't sure if it was from his kiss or the cold air. "Go inside, Tris," he said softly, "and you keep safe. No more trying to get yourself killed, okay?"

"I wasn't trying to get myself killed," she whispered definantly.

"Okay," and kissed her lips softly again. "Thank you, Tris," he said with honesty. "You know, for my life, not the sex."

Tris smiled. "Thank you, Four," she echoed. "For my life and the sex," she added with a sexy grin.

Four laughed with her, then stepped away from her, running his hands down her arms until he held her by one hand, their fingers automatically interlacing with each other. He felt the need to move away from her before he caved and nailed her again against the car waiting for him.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her hand. "I'll call you," Four said and she nodded, knowing he wouldn't. She reluctantly moved her fingers and let his hand slip from hers and she took a step back, toward the door.

"See ya later," she said and actually smiled at him, her full, bright smile, and Four imprinted it onto his heart as he turned and walked to the car. The front passenger door opened quickly and a huge bulk of a man stepped out, quickly moved to the back of the car, and opened the door for Four.

Four turned back and smirked at Tris, and she returned his grin. He moved closer to the car and was mildly surprised when the huge man presented him with his own gun. With one last look to Tris, he slid into the car.

The burly man turned back to Tris. "Miss Tris," he said with a slight indication of his head.

"Keep him safe, Jamie," she whispered.

"With my life," he said, he climbed back in front of the car.

Tris watched as the car moved away. She didn't bother to wave, knowing she couldn't see if he waved back. She had a feeling he would go ballistic if he knew Jamie would be following him for the next few days to keep an eye on him, now he knew where the Dauntless was housed.

She watched until she couldn't see the taillights anymore and then she returned to the house.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello, you fabulous people, and welcome to all new readers. I hope you are all having an awesome day wherever you are in the world.

I can not thank you all enough for the awesome response to this story. Thank you for all your favorites and follows. It's humbling to know there are people out there who not only read what I write, but actually like it. And to those of you who go one step further and leave a review, everyone of them makes me smile and inspires me to do better. For you.

I'm not gonna bore you all with my babbling, let get straight to Chapter Six...

* * *

Chapter Six.

Two days later, Tris sat wearily at a table in the dining room of the large house she called home. She had finished her light breakfast and was trying to convince her body to move so she could go to work.

The previous night, Caleb and Tris were pushed to their professional limits on a rough mission. Tris admitted her concentration hadn't been completely on the game, and she had collapsed into her bed at three that morning. It was now just before 8am, and she had a meeting at 9. She hated morning meetings, especially if she had been working her _other job_ the night before, but this was the downfall of her surname and birth right.

"Hey, girl," a voice called, and she looked up to see Christina and Marlene entering the dining room.

She waved to them as they walked over to the buffet-style carts which held an immense variety of breakfast foods and watched as they selected what they wanted.

Christina was around the same height as her, and probably the same build but that was where the similarities ended. Christina's skin color was an enthralling mix of caramel and chocolate and seemed to radiate a golden shimmer. Her eyes were dark and alluring but always watchful and calculating. She had an inexplicable talent of understanding body language and could tell instantly if a person was lying or not. She was loud, brash, and had no filter, but she was one of Tris's best friends.

Tris rose up gracefully and moved to the espresso machine, made coffees for them and brought them back to her table, sliding the coffee mugs in front of her two friends as they took their seats.

"Thanks, Tris," Marlene said as she sat down, munching on a slice of toast. Marlene was, in Tris's eyes, a real beauty. Her blonde hair was brighter than her own, more golden, like silk, and her blue eyes were large and seemed to sparkle. She was slim and athletic and her abundance of energy made for a perfect work out buddy. Her role within Dauntless was, as always, undefined. It was undecided if she would ever start her training to become an agent so she generally just made herself useful around the house. She spent a lot of her time with Tori as a kind of nursing assistant and personal aid.

"Tough night?" Christina asked, concern in her voice.

"Yeah," Tris answered the other girl. Christina was an agent like Tris, but she didn't possess the special _abilities_ that Tris did.

"So, I was talking to Tori yesterday," Marlene started, grinning brazenly as she ate.

"Now, there's a surprise," Christina said with fake surprise.

"And," Marlene continued, ignoring Christina's comment, "she told me that Tris's new toy is huge." Marlene's eyes widened, her hands coming up in front of her, about a foot apart, over-exaggerating, as she repeated, "Huge."

"Oh, Tris, are you holding out on the details?" Christina asked, her eager eyes swinging to Tris.

"A lady doesn't kiss and tell," Tris stated with refined dignity, sitting slightly taller in seat.

"Fuck that, Tris," Christina said with a laugh. "You're no lady, and the best part is the kiss and tell."

Tris giggled at her friend's statement. "Christina, if that's the best part, you're doing something seriously wrong."

"Yeah," a new voice added as a male form flopped down into the only empty seat at their table, the plate in his hand piled high with bacon, scrambled eggs, and a couple of bran muffins. He looked at the girls with enthusiasm. "What are we talking about?"

Uriah Pedrad was the kind of guy who was everyone's friend. He just had one of those personalities everyone was drawn to. His eyes were a soft brown in color and belied an innocence he did not possess. He was dark like Christina with an athletic body, toned and sharp. He had a need for an adrenaline rush that almost mirrored Tris's and they were constantly goading the other to bigger, scarier stunts that pushed the others around them to their limits.

"Tris's new plaything," Marlene informed him as she eyed the muffin on his plate.

Uriah shot Tris a dazzling smile as he chewed his food. "You may continue."

Christina and Marlene both turned back to Tris, their faces eager for information. "So, you've kissed, now you've got to tell," Christina prompted.

"I really don't have time to go into this right now," Tris said with a glance at her watch. "I have a meeting in less than an hour."

"A fine excuse if I've ever heard one," Christina whined. "Oh come on, Tris, those of us who aren't getting any need to live vicariously through you."

"Then go and fuck Will and have your own sex life," Tris laughed.

"But that won't help Marlene," Christina exclaimed dramatically.

"It's true," Marlene said with a nod, her face deadly serious. "I'm probably gonna end up a dry old maid."

"Never gonna happen, babe," Uriah said with a laugh and a wink.

Tris laughed along with him. Uriah, while normally a very out-going person, seemed to be having trouble trying to tell the girl beside him he was infatuated with her. This had led to numerous late night, drunken conversations with Tris where she listened with sympathy while he lamented on how much he liked this girl.

Tris loved hanging with her friends and cursed that she had to go to work. "Hey, we need a girls night out," Tris announced, and her eyes lighting up at the thought.

"Woohoo," Christina exclaimed, throwing her fists in the air. "I love girls night out."

"Yeah, and since Tris has a new flavor of the month, she might actually finish the night out with us," Marlene agreed, her own lips curling up into a bright smile.

Tris didn't want to think about Four. He hadn't called her, but she never really expected him to since she hadn't given him her number. And she hadn't called him, either, though she did have access to his number. He had asked for a couple of days to think over his options, and she was respecting that. But she ached for him in a way she never had with any of the other men she had dated. And what was that anyway, were they dating? One day of incredible sex did not generally mean a deeper connection had been made.

"Can I tag along?" Uriah asked excitedly, bringing Tris out of her internal thoughts.

"Sure," Christina grinned. "When you grow a vagina."

"I could just borrow yours," he shot back. "You're not using it."

Christina threw the crust of her toast at him as she stuck her tongue out.

"We need to get a body for Tori," Tris said, laughing at the childish antics of her friends.

"What?" Christina asked, choking on her bacon.

"Tori," Tris repeated. "She's fed up with Zeke pussy footing around."

"Yeah, that's Zeke alright. He's such a pansycake," Uriah grinned, Zeke being his older brother

"I suggested she just go out and get laid," Tris continued.

"In true Tris style, I guess," Marlene laughed.

"Of course!" Tris joined in with Marlene's laughter. "Oh, shit guys, I really gotta go. We'll discuss plans later," and she stood. "Later, babes," she called as she left the room.

…

Tris sat in a chair by the front door waiting for her car to be brought around, her mood sinking again as her thoughts returned to Four. She looked up as Caleb stumbled down the corridor. He spotted her and wandered over to collapse his long body into the seat next to her.

"Your leg okay?" she asked, closing her eyes briefly.

"Yeah," he replied tiredly. "How's your shoulder?"

Tris rolled her shoulder carefully. It had been smashed several times against a wall during the fight with a target who was most reluctant to die quietly.

"I'll be fine," she answered. "I'll try and fit in a deep-tissue massage at lunch."

"Hey," Caleb said, knocking his sister's leg with his own. "Are you okay, Bea?"

'I'm fine, Caleb," she stated again, though her eyes told a different story and she bristled a little at his use of an old nickname.

"Did you sleep at all?" he probed.

"Hardly," Tris admitted.

Caleb knew his sister, and he knew what was really wrong with her. "He'll come around, ya know," he grinned.

"You don't know that, Caleb," Tris returned, softly. "Maybe I just saved his life by a couple of days." As far as she was aware, no one had refused an invitation to join the Dauntless. She knew her uncle, and she knew that under that aloof, arrogant exterior, he was a cold-hearted bastard. Would he let Four run free with his knowledge of the Dauntless? Or would his body be found under the Navy Pier? She sighed deeply. "Why won't he call, Caleb?"

"Did you give him your number?" Caleb asked evenly.

"He's a cop, Caleb. He could get my number if he really wanted to," Tris said, rubbing her forehead.

"Yeah, and then our uncle would have a coronary when he found out your cell number had been traced," Caleb countered with a small smile.

Tris gave a soft snort in acknowledgement.

"He's really got to you?" Caleb asked, looking carefully at Tris.

"Yeah," she admitted.

"Well, I never thought I'd see the day," Caleb quipped. "It'll be okay, Tris. He can't resist you."

"Then why isn't he here, Caleb?" she whined dramatically.

Caleb shrugged his shoulders neutrally.

"What will I do if he decides not to join?" she asked him.

"What do you want to do?" he countered.

"Abduct him and run away forever," she said seriously.

"Then that's what you'll do," Caleb returned with all honesty.

Tris looked at him for a moment and then laughed. Caleb smiled and then laughed with her, glad he had managed to get her to smile again.

"Miss Tris," Gavin called from the door, "your car is ready."

"Thanks, Gavin," she said with a sweet smile.

"Okay, enough of this shit," she said, slapping her legs and standing up. "Some of us have work to go to. Enjoy sleeping, Caleb."

Caleb followed her up and kissed her cheek.

"Don't work too hard, Tris," he called as walked down the corridor to the dining room to grab some food before he went to bed.

…

Tris found her Bentley waiting for her out front, and she tossed her laptop, briefcase, and purse on the passenger seat as she slid behind the steering while, smiling at the young man who had brought it up from the garage. She was grateful she had asked them the lower the roof; she needed the air to wake her up.

She set off on a kind of autopilot as she drove into the city, her mind wandering over her last conversation with her uncle.

She had told him what Four had said about the air stopping in the club when he had first seen her. That had brought into light that Four might actually belong with them more than he realized.

There were only a few of them within Dauntless who could stop the very movement of the air and who could manipulate the molecules, bend them to do their bidding. Four would be a great asset if he could do this. Of course, all that was moot if Four decided not to join them and then she'd... Well, she didn't know what she would do.

Forty-five minutes later, she pulled into the underground garage of her building, smiling at the guard on duty and parked in her space close to the elevators. She gathered her three bags and headed for the elevator. She rode straight up to her floor, bypassing her urge to call in at the coffee shop, knowing George would get her whatever she needed.

"Morning, Jen," she called to the young woman on reception as she stepped from the elevator.

"Good morning, Miss Prior," the receptionist returned with a smile.

Tris continued down to her office.

"Morning George, Susan," she called to her two personal assistants. George dealt with all things concerning The Prior Group and The Dauntless while Susan made sure she kept on top of her charity dealings.

"Shit, Tris, you look like hell," George exclaimed, taking in the appearance of his boss who happened to be 10 years his junior, but was looking every day of his 33.

"Thank you, George, for your kind words," she said, sarcasm dripping from her.

"Party hard?" Susan asked. She, too, was older than her young boss by six years but these two never cared that Tris was younger than them. The simple fact was they loved working for her, and both tended to look upon her as a younger sister more than a boss.

"I wish," Tris answered with a smile. "Work-related, didn't get back 'til 3am."

"Shit," George muttered low.

"I'll see that shit and raise you a holy fuck," Tris quipped with a laugh. "And if that's not bad enough, I have that meeting in, like, ten minutes."

"I'll get the coffee," Susan offered, already on her way to the kitchen that they used.

"With a shot of espresso, Susan," Tris said with a smile. "In fact, I may need a double shot."

Susan acknowledged her request as George followed Tris into her office. "Henry called again about that other venture he asked you to take care of."

"Tell him I'm not a piece of meat," she said seriously, nodding to the guard who was always stationed outside her office.

George just nodded at her answer, knowing that was what she was gonna say.

"Your messages are ready for you," he said, moving her chair out from behind the desk for her.

Tris nodded and sat down, placing her bags beside the desk. She picked the small squares of paper up and had a quick look through them. "They can all wait 'til later," she informed him and smiled as Susan placed a large coffee on her desk.

"Thanks, Susan," she said with genuine gratitude.

They both turned and left Tris as she pulled a file folder from her briefcase.

"I'll let you know when they get here," George called from the door.

"Thanks," Tris said absentmindedly as she re-read through the file, her hand wrapping around her large coffee cup subconsciously.

…

Two hours later, Tris returned to her office from the board room where her meeting had taken place.

"That was the most boring two hours of my life," she whined as she perched on George's desk, "with the most boring seven people I have ever met."

"That's the life of the high flyers, Boss," he said with a smile.

"Well, do me a favor and shoot me now," she retorted, only half in jest.

There was a pause in their conversation and Tris suddenly yawned. "Okay, I'm gonna crash in my office for a while. Hold all my calls and no visitors. I'll be free for a late lunch," she instructed as she walked toward the wide doors.

"Does that include everyone?" George called after her.

"Yes."

"Including both the bosses?" George probed.

Tris sighed deeply. "I guess not."

"What about Caleb?" Susan asked.

Tris thought about it. "Let him in, but that's it, no one else." She stopped at the door, thinking, before she turned back to them. "Unless a man who gives his name as Four calls. I'll take that call."

"Four?" Susan questioned.

"Yeah, I know. Strange name," Tris answered distractedly.

George's eyes flashed. "Oh, baby got herself a new plaything?" he asked with a grin

Tris thought about that for a moment. "That's the million-dollar question," she replied and then closed the door behind her.

…

Four walked quickly through the lunchtime rush in the financial district of the famed Chicago loop. He had returned to work that day, fed up of his 'sick time' and desperate to get back to some sort of normalcy.

He had done nothing but think about his new life options and was still unclear of what he was going to do.

He understood what the Dauntless stood for but for all intents and purposes, the Dauntless was illegal. He was a cop, an upstanding man of the community, and an all-round decent guy. Sure, he had his moments of recklessness and often questioned the reasoning of those in charge, but standards that had been installed in him at an early age were hard to turn his back on. He was beginning to carve out a prominent career for himself, did he want to jeopardize that for a group of people he hardly knew?

Then again, he couldn't get the image of Tris out of his head. He dreamed about her when he was asleep and fantasied about her when he was awake. He had given up that morning and rung the number he had found in his jeans pocket. The call had gone through to the sprawling mansion that housed both Tris and the Dauntless.

He was told _Miss Tris_ was at work and been given an address in the city. So now he found himself walking the streets looking for her place of work, which actually surprised him because she had said she didn't do much in the way of a proper job.

Four stopped in front of a concrete plaza, exquisitely designed with abstract sculptures strategically placed around the area and surrounded by three impressive office buildings, a few blocks over from Willis Tower. He looked back at the piece of paper in his hand, double checking the address, and then looking back up, he saw an upright slab of smooth granite that indicated he was in the right place: Prior Plaza.

Four moved into the plaza and instinctively walked over to the center building. A huge sign indicated the building belong to The Prior Group. He strode into the building.

Four wandered over to the oversized, contemporary reception desk in front of a wide corridor that led to a bank of elevators.

"Erm, Tris Prior, please," he said to a receptionist, hoping he was in the right place. She looked up at him, confusion at first in eyes and then recognition. He watched as she raked her eyes over him, halfway between admiration and suspicion. Her eyes stopped on the badge clipped to his belt.

"Top floor," she said with a smile and indicated with a hand past her to the elevators.

Four thanked her and walked over to the elevators. He eyed the doors that indicated four cars and wondered how high the top floor was and if he'd be able to take the stairs. Just as he was about to turn, a set of doors open and he was pressed forward. The car was bright and spacious and he held his breath as he moved to the back wall.

There was only him and one other man in the elevator when they reached the top floor. The doors opened, and Four pushed past the man in his eagerness to leave the confined space.

He paused briefly, willing his rapidly beating heart to calm, inhaling slowly and controlling his exhales just as he'd been taught years ago. When he finally regained his equilibrium he looked into the space before him. He was faced with another vast, curved reception desk in a large foyer with a corridor running off each side of room.

Again, he asked for Tris Prior and was directed down the left side corridor.

Toward the end of this hallway he was met with two more desks, each against a wall and facing the other; a man sitting behind one desk with dark short cropped hair and splattering of facial hair, and a woman with long blonde hair, pulled tightly behind her head, behind the other. Four also noted the security guard standing beside a set of impressive, deep walnut double doors.

Four turned to the man behind the desk who was looking expectantly at him. "I'm here to see Tris," he said slightly gruffly.

"I'm sorry," George said, looking the man up and down. George observed this visitor was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt with a leather jacket over the top, and he couldn't help notice the police badge clipped onto his belt. "Ms. Prior is unavailable."

"Is she in there?" Four pointed toward the doors that obviously lead to an office.

"Ms. Prior is unavailable at the present, sir," George repeated. He looked down at an appointment book in front of him. "She'll be available at 3pm, if I can take your name?"

Four sighed, realizing he wasn't going to get into the office. He ran his hand through his hair and said, "Eaton. Four Eaton."

He watched as the two secretaries look at each other, George with a dawning grin.

"Of course, Mr. Eaton," he said, standing up and moving from behind the desk. "I'll show you through."

Four laughed in surprised that his name, not his badge, had actually opened the door. He followed the well-dressed man up to the doors and the security guard cast a sharp-eyed him over and then nodded. Four wondered if he knew about the gun he had in a holster under his jacket. He hoped so or he wasn't any kind of security guard. Four looked up at the door as the secretary guy knocked sharply, his eyes widened at the shiny plate there.

Beatrice Prior.

Vice President.

CEO of Acquisitions and Distribution.

 _Beatrice,_ he thought, bewildered, with an after-thought of, _now that's a job title_.

George opened the doors to be greeted with music blaring excessively loud, and he indicated for Four to enter.

Four stepped into the large, palatial office and whistled low. There was a wall of windows directly in front of him on the opposite side of the room, overlooking the skyline, and a huge walnut desk that looked like it belonged in a museum sat in front of the windows, with a comfortable-looking desk chair behind it and two oversized leather chairs in front. A wall of bookcases filled one side of the room with a selection of artifacts and books adorning it. On the other side of the room was a large sofa with Tris asleep on it. Four noted three internal doors, one in between the bookcases and the other two on the side with the sofa. Near the wall of windows, just down from the sofa, there was a cabinet Four suspected held the stereo he could hear the music blaring from and probably an array of drinks. The room was decorating in soothing blues and pale greens and impressive pieces of artwork were hung strategically around the room.

Four and George both turned to the person sleeping on the sofa.

"How can she sleep with this crap blaring?" Four asked low, thought he didn't know why. The music was loud enough the wake the dead.

"Tris can sleep anywhere, especially if she's overtired," George offered with a fond smile toward his boss. He walked over and lifted a small remote from the desk, and with a flick of his wrist, the volume reduced to a respectful level.

"Which she is now?" Four asked.

George wasn't sure how much this rugged man knew about Tris's life, so he decided not to comment.

"I'll get her coffee," he replied instead as he turned to leave before asking. "Would you like anything, Mr. Eaton?"

"Sure," Four said, his eyes intent on the sleeping woman. "Coffee, cream and sugar."

When the door closed, he walked over to where she lay curled gracefully on her sofa, her shoes set on the floor besides the furniture, and he crouched down in front of her.

Tris stirred a little in her sleep as a distinctly masculine smell invaded her senses, and she smiled slightly, breathing in the scent hungrily. Then she felt a large hand on her hip, stroking gently. Her eyes drifted open, and her smile grew when realized she wasn't imagining Four being there.

"Hey," Four greeted softly when her eyes opened.

"Hey," she said just as low as he did.

"Why are you sleeping here and not in a bed?" Four asked, his hand sweeping over her butt and back to her hip in soft, gentle movements.

"Early meeting," she answered simply, closing her eyes again briefly at the feel of his hands on her again.

Four couldn't resist anymore, and he leaned in to gently brush her lips with his.

Tris moved her hands around his head holding him to her, rolling slightly onto her back, pulling him with her and deepening the intensity of his kiss. It had been a very long two days and she'd missed his lips so much.

They were so lost in their kiss they didn't notice the door opening as George returned. He placed the coffee tray on the small table at the side of the sofa and it was this movement that startled the two out of their kiss.

"Coffee," he stated simply, flashing a smile at Tris.

"Thank you, George," Tris said, sitting up on the sofa, not in the least embarrassed about her passionate kiss with Four.

"I'll be going for lunch," George told Tris. "Susan is still outside if you should need her."

"Okay," Tris nodded, reaching for her cup. "Hey George," she called out to the retreating figure, "go nuts and use the group card." Tris turned and handed Four his coffee as he settled on the sofa next to her.

"Thanks," George beamed, and then he looked to Four. "You can visit again." He left quickly before Tris could change her mind, closing the door quietly behind him.

"So, this is some impressive office for someone who is a lowly Prior woman who doesn't do much," Four said with a wry smirk.

Tris shrugged. "I guess," she acknowledged as she took a grateful sip of the coffee

Four watched her as he mirrored her and took a drink. "Shit, that's good java," he exclaimed, smiling wide at his coffee cup.

"Yes, it is," Tris agreed.

"Vice President, eh?" Four stated, his eyes on her.

"It's just a title, Four," Tris sighed, with another shrug of her shoulders, pushing the pain that hit her when she moved her shoulder to the back of her mind

"CEO of Acquisitions and Distribution," Four continued with a raised eyebrow.

"A glorified title for Shopping and Charity Events," Tris laughed.

"Somehow, I doubt that completely," Four concluded, taking another sip of the wonderful coffee.

Tris tilted her head to him slightly, asking, "Why?"

"Because people who shop and attend charity events do not have early meetings, need two secretaries, and a security guard," Four answered bluntly.

"You're very observant, Detective Eaton," Tris said with a grin.

"It's my job," he smirked deadpan.

"And they like to be called personal assistants," she added with a smirk of her own. "Especially George. It's a guy thing, I think."

"I think you must be the youngest Vice President and CEO this town has ever had," he said honestly.

"I think you're probably right," she agreed with a grin.

Tris took another drink of her coffee, watching Four over the top of her cup as he again looked around her office, knowing he wanted to say more.

Finally, he looked back at her and with a half-smile asked, "Beatrice?"

Tris smirked back at him. "Tobias?" she retorted, an eyebrow arching in challenge.

Four nodded to her, raising his cup in mock salute. "Touché." The moment for confrontation about first names over.

Tris leaned over and put her cup back down on the small table. "Where have you been, Four?" she asked.

"Around…thinking…," he answered, slightly distracted with the way her white, silk shirt glided over her body at her movement.

"And did you have any epiphanies or anything during this seclusion of yours?" she probed.

"I'm not sure, Tris," he replied honestly, placing his empty cup next to hers.

She nodded, understanding. It was a lot to take in.

"I was worried about you," Tris said quietly.

"I'm sorry," Four whispered, holding his hand to her check tenderly. "Did you miss me?" he asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

"God, yes," she answered simply and honestly.

"Good. I missed you, too."

His thumb glided gently over her cheek, his eyes watching hers, and he felt the pull of her. Almost as if she was a siren, luring him into her arms, and he pulled back from her.

"I heard from Jason yesterday," Four offered, turning his head from her slightly, but, inevitably, his eyes demanded more and he couldn't help but look at her again, though he tried to not make it obvious.

"Jason?" Tris asked, her brow knotting.

"Yeah, my C.P.D partner," he clarified, catching her eyes again. "The one who's enjoying a private island at the moment."

"Oh, is he having fun?"

"Yeah," Four nodded. "I think he wants to become the owners' personal slave."

"Oh," Tris said, her features falling slightly. "I was hoping for a different personal slave."

"Fuck, Tris, that island is yours?" he asked incredulously.

"It's not called Bella Beatrix for nothing, you know," she stated with a laugh.

"Holy shit, how much money do you have?" Four asked, his face a picture of disbelief.

"Don't you think that's a little personal, Four?" Tris remarked, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"Tris," Four said gently, a hand upon her knee. "I've had my face between your legs, nothing is too personal between us anymore."

Tris laughed at that. "In that case, I have no idea, and when am I gonna get a repeat performance? I have a terrible memory, ya know."

"You do, huh?" Four said, that wicked grin back again. He leaned over to her, a hairs-breath from her lips. "I'm only on a lunch break, ya know," he whispered against her lips.

"Sex first, lunch after," Tris mumbled simply.

"I can deal with that," he said and he kissed her. "Where do those doors lead?" he nodded in the general directions of the doors when he finally let go of her lips.

"That one," she pointed to the one next to the sofa, "goes to the bathroom. That one," she pointed to the one a little further down, "to my file room, and that one," she pointed over to the one on the far wall, "leads to my uncle's office," all the time barely moving her lips from his.

"The man I met?" Four asked, dipping his lips to her pulse point.

"Uh huh," she said, shuddering delightfully under his lips.

"Can we lock that door?" Four asked again, trailing his mouth lower into the deep V her shirt created between her breasts.

"Yes we can, but he's hardly here anyway. He's too involved with Dauntless," Tris divulged, moving back slightly to give him more room.

"How about the windows, do they have blinds?" he asked as he began unbuttoning her shirt.

"No, but they're tinted, and we're pretty high up," she answered as she pushed his jacket from his shoulders, her hands roaming over his t-shirt clad chest, feeling his defined pecs easily through the thin material.

He finally pulled her shirt apart and smiled.

"What?" Tris asked when she noticed he made no further movements.

"You're wearing a bra," he said, as he stroked the piece of white silk that covered her breasts.

"I'm at work, Four," she said as she popped the button on his jeans, then wound her hands around to his back and into the seat of his jeans, grinning because he wasn't wearing boxers. "I'm wearing a white shirt. You wanted me to go without a bra? I think I would have given old Mr. Forsythe a coronary." She giggled imagining how different her morning meeting would have been if she had forgone her bra.

Four shrugged. "I've never seen you in underwear," he said honestly. "It's strangely arousing."

"Really?" Tris asked, pulling back a little to look at him.

"Do you have panties on as well?" he asked seductively, dipping his head to lick the flesh peaking above the silk covering her breast.

"Of course," Tris whimpered as his tongue dancing delightfully across her skin.

"God damn," Four groaned, and Tris chuckled. Who knew he'd be so turned on by the fact that she was wearing underwear?

"I thought men got more turned on when the woman didn't wear underwear?" she asked as she slid her hand round to the front of his jeans, rubbing against his erection.

"On or off, it makes no difference, Tris," Four said. "Just looking at you, and I'm standing to attention."

He dipped his tongue further under the material and swept it across her nipple, earning an erotic moan from Tris.

"Here, or desk?" he asked against her breast.

"Desk," she answered with a smile, holding him to her.

He moved his hand down to her thigh and skimmed it up and under her beige skirt, marveling at the softness of both her skin and the material. "I take it this room is soundproof?" he queried.

"Why do you ask that?" Tris asked, moving slightly on the sofa to give him more room and his hand switched to her other thigh, this time on the inside, and Tris felt the wetness pool in her panties at the closeness of his hand

"Because I couldn't hear the crap you were listening to before I came in the room," Four replied as he glided his fingers across the silky fabric, smiling when she raised her hips to meet his hand.

"Yeah, it is," she said softly, then moaned again before continuing. "My uncle insisted on it just after I took over this office."

"Thank God for that," Four said, and he pulled his hand away from her, lifting his head from her breast and smirking at Tris's whimper of disappointment.

He stood up and pulled on her hands for her to stand too. He looked at her a minute, with her lips a little swollen and her shirt hanging open, and he groaned when the soft material of her skirt slipped back down her thighs. He lifted her with ease into his arms, and she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist. Four smiled when her skirt bunched up again, showing him her glorious thighs. He walked them over to the far door, his lips never leaving hers and his hand stroking up her thigh, lifting the skirt as he went. When he reached the door, he steadied her against the hard wood, his lips again on her neck while she blindly reached down for the lock. He nodded back over to the double doors. "She won't come in, will she?" he asked, and Tris took that to mean Susan.

"No," she said simply, before kissing his neck. She lifted her head again when he hadn't moved them. "Desk, Four."

Four flashed his smile that she was fast beginning to love, and he carried her over to the desk, sitting her down upon it.

"Wait," she said and indicated for him to lift her again, which he did with an amused look on his face.

She turned her head to the desk and then moved her arm from his shoulder. She grabbed the paperwork and files he had unceremoniously sat her down on top of and tossed them onto the floor behind him. "I need them clean," she beamed to his raised eyebrow.

Four shrugged at her and placed her back on the desk, kicking her big chair away with his foot, but not before adding it to the growing list of places he'd like to fuck the girl in his arms.

Tris reached for his jeans again and moved one of her hands inside, cupping him lightly in her hand. She then moved the zipper down and it rasped against her hand. She was glad she had the foresight to cover him with her palm because she was sure if the zipper had caught his sensitive skin, things wouldn't be going as smoothly as they were.

While Tris was intently opening his jeans, Four had freed a breast from its material prison and taken her pert nipple into his mouth, sucking hungrily. He'd missed this too much for only knowing the girl a few days.

"Hang on," Tris said, and she removed her hand that was pumping him slowly. She reached over to the large desktop telephone and pressed a button Four assumed was the intercom to her secretary

"Susan," she said breathlessly as Four nibbled gently on her nipple.

"Yes, Tris," Susan said, surprised. She hadn't expected to hear from her boss for a while.

"Can you have a table waiting at Shaw's for me?" Tris instructed as Four tugged her bottom closer to the edge of the desk. Sliding his hands further under her skirt, he hooked his fingers around the sides of her panties and started to pull them down, Tris lifting her hips slightly to help him, her skirt bunching up high against her thighs.

"Of course," Susan said with a smile, wondering if Tris knew she could hear the soft rustling of clothing being removed.

"Shall I hold your calls, Tris?" Susan asked cheekily, knowing the answer.

"Oh, God. Yes," Tris said as Four hand slipped between her legs.

Susan smiled. "I hope that was intended for me to hear," she laughed into the intercom.

"Hold all her calls," Four growled over the system.

"Yes, Sir," Susan said her grin growing wider.

Four looked deep into Tris's eyes. "I like her," he said with a smile. "She called me sir."

Tris removed her finger from the intercom. "Four. Shut up and fuck me."

…

* * *

 **Happy Birthday to Theo James!**

 **Express your happiness for the day he was born by giving reviews, they will be considered birthday gifts :)**


	7. Chapter 7

Hello, happy Wednesday everyone.

Again I have to express my thanks to all you wonderful readers out there, and welcome to new readers. I'm not gonna bore you with my ramblings, I have a ton of stuff to do this morning and I wanted to get this post out before my holiday shenanigans begin, but know that each and everyone of you fill my heart with joy at your reviews, favorites, and follows.

There were three guest reviews on Chapter Six so:

 **Guest who wrote: yay love them so excited for the next chapter.** Thanks, I'm glad you are enjoying my version of the Divergent character.

 **Guest who wrote: I'm loving this story more and more with every chapter.** I'm super happy you are still enjoying this story and I hope that continues.

 **Guest who wrote: An amazing chapter that ends with office sex... can I just say that I love you? This story is fantastic and original, and I LOVE your take on Tris' character so different from any other fanfic but SO good. Seriously can't wait for the next chapter!** I'm so happy you are enjoying this. I love this story dearly, it hold a special place in my heart, so I'm beyond thrilled that others love it, too. And all declarations of love are gratefully, and gracefully, received. :)

And so, on to Chapter Seven...

* * *

Chapter Seven.

Four pulled his old, beat-up Buick LeSabre up to the elaborate wrought-iron gates that were the guarded entrance to the Dauntless house. He sat there for a moment before rolling down his window and pressing the button on the post-mounted intercom system beside the drive.

"Hello," a tinny voice called.

"Is Tris home?" Four asked gruffly.

There was a brief pause, then the gates slowly opened and the voice replied, "Of course, Detective Eaton. If you would please drive to the front door, there will be someone to assist you."

Four nodded, not in the least surprised whoever was manning the security room knew exactly who he was. He drove down the long twisting drive and watched as the grand house came into view. This was the first real look he had of the building, as he had been unconscious when he had first been brought in, and it had been under the cover of darkness when he had left.

The house was a sprawling limestone mansion with a red tiled roof, that sat upon what appeared to be acres of lush green land. The grounds, of what he could see, were landscaped to perfection. Grand trees lined the drive to the main house, elms, oaks, and magnolias, and the closer he drove, Four noted the splattering of color from various flowering shrubs. Over the far end of the building, vibrant wisteria crawled up and over the walls. The front of the house was graced with two magnificent gray marble columns, with the solid wood door sitting in the middle, and three wide marble steps leading to it. He drove his car into the circular drive, stopping in front of the steps and as he switched the engine off, the door opened and Gavin stepped out.

"Gavin, isn't it?" Four asked, looking at him as he climbed out of his car.

"That's right, Detective Eaton. Will you be staying long?" he questioned politely.

Four looked sideways at him, "I'm not sure."

"If you'd like to leave your keys, your car will be parked in the garage," Gavin said, stepping forward slightly.

Four looked at his car and then back to Gavin, shrugged his shoulders and tossed his keys over as he entered the house.

"Is she home?" he inquired as Gavin closed the door and lifted a walkie-talkie from where it was clipped to his pants.

"Miss Tris is home, Detective Eaton," Gavin answered with a knowing smile, then he held the walkie-talkie to him as Four turned in a circle in the foyer and he heard Gavin ask for someone to come up and move his car to the garage.

"Are you okay, Detective Eaton?" Gavin asked when he noticed Four hadn't moved from the large foyer.

"This is one big house," Four answered shaking his head.

Gavin smiled at him and pointed down a corridor. "If you go that way, someone should be able to tell you where Miss Tris is."

Four slapped him comradely on his shoulder. "Thanks, Gavin," and he turned to set off down the corridor he had indicated.

"Detective Eaton," Gavin called, stopping him before he moved. "I'm afraid you're gonna have to leave your weapon with me. Dauntless policy."

Four debated this but eventually, he shrugged off his jacket and unfastened his shoulder harness. He held the harness, holster, and gun in his hand, his eyes on Gavin as he reluctantly handed them over, breaking a serious police regulation. _Never let another handle your firearm._

Gavin nodded to Four as he received the items and Four turned, grabbing his jacket from the chair where he had discarded it and headed down the hallway before he changed his mind and demanded his gun back.

While walking, he passed people he didn't know and was eyed suspiciously. He assumed everyone knew everyone here, and he was a stranger walking freely around. He continued down the corridor, and he had a sudden strange sense of familiarity. As he passed a room, he looked in to see a huge TV and comfy couched; sort of a family room, he guessed. There were a few people lounging on the couches but none who he recognized, so he just continued. Of course, he could ask any one of them if they knew where Tris was, but he doubted they would tell him.

A little further down and over to his left, he found the dining room and popped his head in. There was a large group of people eating at various oak tables but, as his eyes scanned the area, he couldn't see Tris. He was about to leave when he heard his name being called.

"Four?"

He turned and smiled at the slight doctor who had taken care of him four days earlier.

"Hey, Doc," he called out to her.

"Please, call me Tori, no one calls me Doc or Doctor," she said with a small smile. "It's just Tori."

"Okay, Tori," he said, stepping more into the room.

"Do you want some dinner?" she asked, indicating to the row of food along the side of the room displayed in a buffet setting.

"Maybe later," he said with a grin, remembering the delicious meal he had eaten the other night. "I'm looking for…"

"Hey, you must be Four, right?" another voice called.

Four turned to see a girl around Tris's height, her black hair cut short, practically bouncing on her heels as she came to a stop beside Tori, her tray laden down with food. She turned to look at Tori with her eyebrows raised in question.

Tori looked at her, rolled her eyes and nodded.

The other girl whistled low in her throat. "No shit!" She looked back to Four. "No wonder the bitch wanted to keep you away from the rest of us."

Four smirked at her, and Tori turned back to him. "Four, this is Christina. Christina, this is Detective Eaton."

"Nice to meet you, Christina," Four said with a slight smile.

Christina grinned at him and turned to walk to a table, Four had no choice but to follow as she continued to talk to him. "This is just so typical. You do realize Tris is using her status in this house to keep you away from the rest of us."

Four laughed. "Actually, it was me who was staying away. I think it's pretty safe to say she wanted me around more."

"And we don't blame her," Christina flirted, unable to stop herself from eyeing him up and down as she sat down at a large table that had others already seated there. "If it had been me, I would have you chained up in my room."

A guy at the table laughed. "If it had been you, Christina, you would never have gotten away with bringing him here in the first place," he laughed. "Hi, I'm Will."

"Right," Four said with a nod as he recognized the man. "Four," returned in way of introduction.

"Yeah, I remember," Will said with a smirk.

"I think everyone knows who you are, Four," Tori informed him, sitting down next to Christina. "You're quite the enigma around here."

"And your name is pretty strange," another voice added.

"Oh, please," Four quipped with a laugh, choosing to ignore the comment about his name. "I'm in a house full of lethal assassins and _I'm_ the enigma?"

There was silence around the table as they all looked at him in shock. Then Christina started to giggle, and Will snorted, and soon the people around the table were all laughing.

"I guess an outsider would think that," Will remarked with a grin.

"We're not all lethal assassins, you know," Tori muttered grumpily.

"Oh, babe, you just kill us in a different way," a dark hair guy who had commented on his name said. Tori gave him a quick slap to his upper arm before he turned to Four. "I'm Zeke."

Four nodded and looked to the others.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Tori said looking embarrassed. "Let me introduce you."

"That's Will," she indicated to the man he had met before. "He's what we call an agent." Four bowed his head in understanding; agent could work as another word for assassin or operative.

"Zeke is also an agent," and Four nodded again to the dark hair man sitting beside Tori.

"Marlene," and she indicated to a statuesque figure a little further down the table, "helps out around the house."

"Hi Four," the blonde said. "What she means is I'm the gopher."

"Gopher?" Four asked intrigued.

"Yeah," Marlene replied with a smile. "You know, go for this and go for that."

Four laughed as the others at the table did.

"You've met Christina," Tori nodded with a grin to the dark beauty across the table. "She's also an agent."

"No shit," Four exclaimed, his face showing shock. "Well, it's no wonder you guys have an excellent track record."

"Why do you say that?" Zeke queried, gazing suspiciously at the taller man.

"You have the most unsuspecting women doing the hard work," he answered with a smile.

"Hey," another guy said, "we work just as hard as they do."

Four recognized him as the other guy from the alley. Al.

"Sure you do, sweetheart," Christina grinned toward Al. She then turned to Four. "I like you. You can stay."

"I hate to break it to you, Chris," Will countered, "but it's not your decision."

"Talking about that," Four interrupted. "Do you know where Tris is?"

"Forget about her, she's too skinny and lacking in the boob department," Christina said waving her fork in mid-air. "Come and keep my bed warm."

"Christina," Tori exclaimed her eyes wide.

"Thanks for the offer," Four laughed, "but I think I'll stick with just one hellcat, if you don't mind."

"Good luck with that," Al called dejectedly.

"So, Tris?" Four probed, ignoring Al who obviously had issues.

"I think she's outside," a new voice called, and Four turned to see an older man by the door staring at them.

Again, Four was struck with an odd sense of familiarity as he looked at the older man.

"Thanks," Four said to the man who had yet to introduce himself. "And how do I get outside?"

"Come on," he laughed. "I'll show you."

Four turned back to Tori, and she smiled at him so he guessed the new guy couldn't be that bad.

"Thanks, Tori," he said to her, and then he looked at the others. "It was nice to meet you all."

"Will we be seeing more of you?" Christina asked with a gleam in her eyes.

"Not in the way you want to," Four replied with a laugh, and he turned to follow the older man out of the dining room. He vaguely heard Christina say, "Ain't that the truth? Lucky bitch always gets the hot ones."

"I'm not interrupting your dinner, am I?" Four asked politely as they walked further down the corridor.

"No, it's fine," the man answered. "I'm Amar, by the way."

"Four," Four said with a smile.

"Yeah, we've met, but you were unconscious," Amar provided.

When Four looked at him in question, Amar added, "I'm part of what we call the clean-up team. I dispose of the bodies."

"Now there's a job you can write to your parents about," Four chuckled.

Amar gave a snort of laughter and led Four out of a set of wide, double glass doors.

"Wow," Four exclaimed as he took in the enormity of the green expanse in front of him and he stepped out on to a wide marbled terrace. The stone under his feet seemed to glitter in the early evening light, and the balustrade that surrounded the terrace looked almost pure white. His eyes were drawn to the low sun glistening off a body of water that he could see in the distance. "I'll say it again. This is some place."

They strolled over to a set of double marble stairs and descended down one side onto the paved area below

"That it is," Amar agreed. "The people who live here tend to forget that sometimes, but it never ceases to amaze me."

"So, what's the real story with all the people here?" Four asked, his eyes focusing on a lone figure he could just make out far in the distance, sitting on what looked like a giant boulder.

"Everyone in this place has their own story, their own tragedy," Amar said gently. "That's part of what brings them here in the first place. Don't ask, they will tell you if and when they are ready."

"And what's her tragedy?" Four asked, knowing full well it was Tris sitting alone in the distance.

"Tris's tragedy is an atrocity to us all," Amar replied cryptically, "and the only person who can tell you about it is her."

Four nodded at Amar's statement.

"I hear you've been offered a position here?" Amar probed.

"Sort of," Four answered, "though nothing has been defined." He looked to the older man; he was probably around the same age of his dad. "Do you think I should take the offer?"

"That's not for me to say, Four," Amar countered evenly.

"What will happen if I say no?" He asked one of the main questions that had plagued him since he had been offered the job.

Amar shrugged his shoulders. "No one has declined before," he answered with a dry smile.

Amar watched the younger man as he gazed upon Tris's form in the distance, and Amar chuckled a little.

"She is something, isn't she?" Amar remarked.

"And the rest."

There was a pause between the two men.

"If I don't stay, will I still get to see her?" Four asked.

"I couldn't say. Tris is her own person, and she lives by her own rules," Amar smiled. "But, Four, don't make her the reason to stay. That's not the way to start a relationship. Don't put that much pressure on her, or yourself."

Four nodded and started to walk the distance that separated him from the one thing that he wanted.

"Four," Amar called and Four turned back to him. "You hurt her, or you break her in any way, and you'll have the entire Dauntless out for your blood."

Four looked at the man and again had the fleeting sense of recognition.

"I won't hurt her, Amar," he stated honestly. "And she'll probably be the one who breaks me."

…

Four walked the winding path toward Tris, and when he got closer, he could see her hair moving in the slight breeze, and his fingers ached to be buried within the silken strands. Her gaze was focused on the lake in front of her, and she was, indeed, sitting upon on a giant boulder, her knees pulled up to her with her chin resting on them. She looked lost and alone, and Four swallowed hard at the sadness that seemed to emanate from her.

"What took you so long?" Tris asked when he got closer, not moving her gaze away from the nature before her.

"Oh, you know, traffic out of the city is horrendous," he explained with a smile, "and I had to bypass Christina."

"She try to jump you?" she asked, turning her head to him with a knowing smile.

"Nah, but she probably would have if she didn't have her hands full with her dinner," he replied with his smirk.

"Don't worry, she does that with every hot body that walks through the door," Tris told him as he walked round to stand in front of her.

He watched her as she raked her eyes over him, and he got the distinct feeling she was undressing him right there, and he groaned when she unconsciously licked her lips.

"I can handle her, don't worry," she said, her eyes on his. "I can protect what's mine."

He raised his eye brows questioningly at her. "Yours?"

She scooted herself forward on the rock, her arms stretched out in front of her and her fingers flexing in the universal ' _come here'_ gesture, and he willingly moved as close to the boulder as he could get, between her legs. Tris wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close. Her cheek lay next to his, his 5 o'clock shadow prickly against her soft skin. "Mine," she whispered, almost inaudibly.

Four pulled away from her, and brought his hand up to her cheek and she leaned into his touch, her eyes closing.

"Tris," he said tenderly, and she opened her eyes to look at him, the greenish tint in her hazel eyes shining dominantly, drawing him into the depths where he wanted to reside forever. "Yours," he agreed.

Tris smiled at his words. "Yours?" she queried, and Four instinctively knew what she was asking him.

"Yes, you are," he said, and then kissed her deeply.

When he pulled away from her, Tris gave him her signature cheeky smile and asked, "So, have you decided?"

Four couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped him at the expression on her face, halfway between wanton sex goddess and mischievous pixie.

"Yes."

"And," Tris probed, her hands twisting into his shirt, and her delicate fingers slipping between the buttons to feel the skin of his chest. "Are you gonna stay?"

Four moved back a little so he could take in her features again. He didn't think he would ever get tired of just looking at her, and he found if oddly settling that he could visualize himself doing it for a millennia.

"Four," she whined when he didn't answer her and he could almost envision a mini-version of her with bouncy curls and that dreaded pout saying his actual name but with an added bonus of stamping her foot, and he laughed.

"What's so funny?" she asked when he didn't answer her but laughed instead.

"Nothing," he answered, convinced he had seen his future daughter in her eyes. "Yes," he said finally.

"Yes, what?" Tris asked, confused. This conversation had taken a turn and wasn't making any sense.

He inched forward so his lips skimmed over hers. "Yes, I'm staying," he whispered, his eyes boring into hers, and he felt her lips stretch to her glorious smile.

"Really?" she whispered back.

"Really," he answered and caught her lips again.

Tris pulled herself up in his arms, stretching herself fully against his hard body and plunging her tongue into his willing mouth, stoking his tongue in that delicious way only she seemed capable of, and Four couldn't stop the groan from escaping him.

Tris pulled back first this time, her eyes closed as if still feeling the touch of his lips.

When she opened her eyes again, she asked, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to join Dauntless?"

Four locked his eyes on hers, his mind whirling with thoughts of why he shouldn't join Dauntless. He lifted his hand and his fingers brushed against the soft wisps of her hair, tucking them gently behind her ear.

"When I joined the C.P.D, it was so I could protect those who are unable to protect themselves, to find the bad guys and make them pay, but, we are restrained in our processes," he explained softly. "The Dauntless have their own rules and they get their bad guys. I want to do that. I want to be able to deal out retribution, to be a part of something that embraces principles I consider important. To be the hero. Why do you ask?"

"Because I need to know you made this decision with this," she placed her hand over his heart, "and not with this," and she moved her hand to his groin, cupping gently what was there.

"Well, it was touch and go there for a while," he smirked to her.

"I know," she grinned sexily back before pulling him back into her arms, hugging him to her and enjoying the mass of him enveloping her.

"You give the best hugs," she said against his shoulder. "Like a big, cuddly bear."

"A teddy bear?" he grumbled, his breath dancing across the skin of her neck. "That's not very manly."

Tris twisted her head so she could place a kiss just below his jawline. "Okay, a big, ferocious, mean bear."

"That's better," he grinned.

"Great," she smiled back, and then surprised him by pushing on his chest, making him moved back. When she could, she slid from the boulder to stand in front of him. "Dauntless training starts tomorrow," she told him, and she turned to head back to the house, pulling on his hand so he had to follow.

He followed her gladly. "Tris, I'm a cop. I don't need training."

"Everyone needs training, Four," she remarked, their fingers intertwining naturally. "Especially cops."

Four thought about that and decided to let it slide. _All assassin groups had their own way of training,_ he thought. "Who's gonna train me?"

"The training team," she answered simply with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Which consists of?" he probed as they reached the main house.

"Three, maybe four agents. Four, just wait until tomorrow. You need to go and see Uncle Mason," she said.

Four smirked at her "And declare my intentions?"

"What?" she snapped quickly, her head twisting quickly to look at him.

"Nothing," he laughed at the shocked expression on her face. They might have acknowledged that they belonged to each other, but he could see it was too soon for declarations of everlasting love.

Tris looked suspiciously at him, then she escorted Four to her uncle's office, knowing he was in and that he would know Four had arrived with his answer.

…

 **Happy Holidays to all. I hope you all celebrate the best you can and your days are filled with love, friendship, and family this holiday season. All reviews are considered Christmas gifts... you know what to do.**


	8. Chapter 8

Hello you lovely people, and Happy Wednesday. I hope you've all had an amazing week.

Thanks, as always to your fabulous reviews, and the added follows, favorites, and alerts for this story, and myself as a writer. Its means so much. And welcome to all you new readers.

To all you guest reviewers, thanks for taking the time to let me know what you think of my story. And a special shout-out to the guest who wrote: **Crap I wasn't even paying attention! I was just reading expecting it to go on, and then it was over. Screw you. Love your writing.** I appreciated the screw you, truly I did, because I guess I never noticed how short that chapter was. I, too, get extremely pissed when a chapter ends too soon. So to have you totally lost in your reading is an outstanding compliment. Thanks.

Just a heads up, this chapter contains my version of what it means to be Divergent. Of course it's different from Veronica's, manipulated to fit my story. After all what make us different makes us dangerous, right?I know in the books it turns out Four is not actually Divergent, just able to manipulate the simulations, but we had to get to book three to be told that, so I'm using my creative license here.

And so, on to Chapter Eight... I hope it gives you all some answers.

* * *

Chapter Eight.

"Are you ready?" Tris asked, looking at Four nervously.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he answered, but when she raised her hand to knock, he stopped her.

"Wait," he said quickly, and Tris looked sharply at him, her hand held an inch from the door.

"A kiss for good luck?" he asked her with his smirk, which grew when she returned his smile and pulled him to her. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her hands delving into his hair as she brought her lips to his waiting ones.

Four greedily took what she gave him, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pulled her even tighter against him. He stumbled a little when her slight body seemed to overwhelm him, and to compensate, he pushed back against her, maybe a little too much, and she crashed against the door frame.

Their lips never broke apart as Four pinned her to the hard wood so she couldn't move. Tris could only moan into his mouth at the feel of him so close. Their interlude at lunch definitely scratched the itch she felt since he had left two days ago, but her body was now demanding more.

Four echoed her as his hands roamed down to her ass, and he pulled her lower regions to his own forcibly, which caused her to groan seductively. He forgot where they were and what they had come to do, as his lips trailed down her neck to the soundtrack of Tris's appreciative moans as she held his head to her.

Four loved the feel of her skin, whether it be under his fingers or his lips. His digits dug into her behind hard through her tight jeans, and his lips trailed back up to her luscious lips.

Tris kept her eyes closed and felt Four everywhere at once, finding his lips and willingly let him have something she rarely relinquished: control. She felt her knees weaken at the softness of his lips which contrasted with the brutality of his tongue as he claimed her mouth as his, and she could only mutely give him what he demanded.

She felt like he had crawled inside her and taken up residence. And as much as that terrified her completely, she never wanted him to leave.

The door to the office swiftly opened unawares to the couple as they continued their kiss, Tris's hands under Four's shirt clawing at his skin until the figure who had opened the door muttered, "Shit. I never have a camera handy when they go at it like this."

Tris vaguely heard her crude brother but didn't have the inkling or the willpower to stop Four, neither his hands nor his lips, and whether Four heard him, she didn't want to find out.

Caleb smirked as he watched his small sister almost become lost under the giant body of Four, but when he saw Four's hands disappear into the back of her jeans, he decided he'd had enough.

"If you're gonna lose your clothes, can you hang on a sec while I grab my camera?" he asked loudly, hoping that he would penetrate at least one of their brains before the clothes really did come off. He didn't need to see that, despite all his banter.

"Caleb," a stern voice called from within room, and it was this, surprisingly, that Four's brain registered.

He reluctantly pulled back from Tris's intoxicating lips and opened his eyes to see her breathing hard, her eyes still closed, and he groaned when her tongue slipped out, running across her lips as if to catch every taste of him.

"I hope this won't take long," he whispered to her, and she opened her eyes at his voice and gave him a small smile, her eyes telling him everything he needed to know. He grinned back at her.

"It would go quicker if you actually walked into the room," Caleb remarked sarcastically.

"Shut up, Caleb," Tris chided, her eyes still locked with Four's.

"I'm just saying," he mumbled as he turned and walked back into the room.

"Tris, Four," Mason Prior called from inside and again, this made them move apart from each other.

"Ready?" Tris asked.

Four pulled his large hands out of her jeans, "Ready, babe."

Tris reluctantly removed her hands from him and turning, she entered the office in front of Four, Caleb stepping back to let them in.

"Detective Eaton," Mason greeted, standing from behind his large desk.

"Mr. Prior," Four replied cordially and sat in the seat indicated. Four noticed two other men in the room: Amar, the man he had met earlier, and another who he didn't know.

"Can I assume by your presence here you have come to a decision about my offer?" Mason asked once Four had settled into the chair.

"Yes," Four said simply.

"And by my niece's reaction, I take it that you have accepted?" Mason continued, his eyes shifting from Four to Tris, who was sitting Indian-style on an ornate mahogany side table in between Amar, who relaxed in a wingback chair, and Caleb, who was leaning against a bookshelf.

Four turned in his chair to look at Tris and when she grinned at him, her eyebrow raised, he smirked at her and turned back.

"Yes, Mr. Prior." Four decided to go with formal. "I would like to join your Dauntless."

Mason sat back a smile on his face. "I'm glad to hear that, Four."

"Now," Four started, leaning forward a little in his chair. "Can I ask you some questions?"

Mason looked at the three behind his newest agent and then nodded.

"What exactly is The Dauntless?"

"What is The Dauntless?" Mason repeated with a loving smile. "How do I explain what we are?" he rhetorically asked the room. "I like to think of us as guardian angels, seeking justice in an unjust world, and protecting the city against the filth of the earth."

"But most of the time, you kill these people. How is that bringing them to justice?" Four inquired.

"Everyone has to meet their maker someday," Mason responded indifferently.

"Why not bring them to justice by actually bringing them to the police and letting the justice system do its job?" Four asked.

"Because nine times out of ten, that doesn't happen," Mason replied honestly. "The people we deal with have contacts just like we do. And in my opinion, the world is better off with them dead than them rotting in a prison."

"You're asking me to kill people?" Four clarified calmly.

"Corrupt people, Four. Immoral people. The things some of these people have done would make even your hair curl."

Four noticed the slight flicker of the man's eyes as they flashed behind him and, instinctively, he knew that the older man's thoughts were with Tris, and he felt her shifted uncomfortably.

"But how do you know that?" he asked genuinely, needing assurance.

"Their names wouldn't come across my desk if they weren't better off dead."

There was silence in the room as Four digested what Mason had said.

"About your father," Mason said, breaking the silence and Four sat straighter in his chair.

"What about him?" Four questioned suspiciously, his back becoming ridged at the mention of his father.

Mason looked at him for a moment. "How is he doing? Does he know of your decision to join the Dauntless?"

Four's gaze remained steady on the man in front of him, but his heart rate increased rapidly.

"My father and I are not in contact, Mr. Prior," Four answered curtly.

Mason's expression changed briefly from one of conceitedness, from having some kind of superior knowledge, to one of not understanding the situation. The change was so fleeting, the people in the room almost missed it, but Amar, sitting quietly beside Tris, noting the fleeting expressions on his bosses face.

In a blink, Mason masked his uncertainty and he moved forward and picked up a file folder on his desk. Opening it, he flicked through the papers that were filed there and then closed it again. He shifted in his seat and handed the file to Four.

Four inched forward and took the folder offered, flipping it open to reveal its contents. He was faced with photographs of his father, old pictures taken maybe 20 years ago, coupled with some of his mother, as well. There were pictures of his father standing proudly with three other men, and Four recognized one of the men to be the younger version of the man sitting in front of him. His hand found one glossy print of his father, his mother, and himself standing in front of a huge house, and he had the eerie feeling it was this house.

"What the hell is this?" Four said, his eyes blazing. The images before him caused a swirl of emotions he had long ago suppressed. He barely remembered his life with both his parents, and what he did remember was contradicted by stories his father had sometimes regaled him with as he was growing up.

"Your father, Four," Mason paused, "was once a part of this organization."

Four was stunned. His father was a lot of things and not one of them was the kind of man who fitted in with this organization. He turned again in his chair to look accusingly at Tris. _Had she known about this?_ Judging by the bewildered look on her face and the stiffness of her back, he decided this was news to her, too.

"No," Four denied, turning back to Mason, shaking his head. "My father wasn't a fighter," he said through gritted teeth, more to stop the actual words he wanted to say. Four didn't understand why he was still keeping the lies of his father's life alive: That public persona he fought hard to maintain. "My father is a politics teacher."

"I don't doubt that. Your father, Marcus Eaton, was once one of the greatest politicians this city has seen," Mason watched as Four shook his head. "He is a great man, a creative man, a caring man."

Four bristled under these accolades. The word _bullshit_ rang in his head and he clamped his jaw to stop them from spilling out. A flash of metal gleaming in the light as it arced through the air, speared his thoughts and he fought to push the image down.

"Not everything we do here is about fighting and killing," Mason said skeptically when the man before him didn't acknowledge the praises he gave his father. "When your mother unfortunately passed, it changed your father. He took you and left. He didn't want this life anymore, and he needed to look after you. To raise you like she would have wanted. All you had was each other."

Four's heart beat rapidly within his chest. He knew his mother would not have wanted him to be raised the way Marcus brought up his only son. Who would seriously want that for their child apart from the sadistic bastards out there? What this man was saying could not be true, his father was anything but gentle and good and caring.

Four shook his head as the older man spun a tale he couldn't believe. He looked down, flipping through the file in his hands.

His eyes were inexplicably drawn to a smaller photograph that showed a 6-year-old Four standing beside two younger children, both with unruly hair; one crazy, curly blonde hair, the other wild brown. They were all laughing at something, their eyes twinkling at the camera. His eyes shot up to Mason and then over to Caleb and Tris. Four flipped the photo and sure enough, there was confirmation written on the back. _**Tobias, Caleb, Beatrice. 1994.**_

He stood and took the photo over to Tris, handing it to her with a sad smile. He realized he hadn't seen his daughter in her eyes earlier by the boulder; it had just been a memory of her, a memory hidden deep within him. Strangely, that thought sadden him almost as much as the fact that his father had lied to him.

Tris glanced at the old photograph, her eyes bulging, and she flipped it over in her hands, similar to Four, to find the proof that it was actually her. She gasped when she saw the handwritten notation in the back of the image. Her own eyes darted to Caleb, and then she climbed off the table and stalked over to her uncle, the photo in her hand.

"This is my mom's handwriting," she said, her voice hard and cold.

Mason nodded at her. "She took that picture."

"You knew who Four was from the beginning, and you didn't tell us," Tris continued accusingly.

"Yes, I knew he was Marcus Eaton's son when I first met him," Mason said. "But you are mistaken, Tris, I don't have to tell you everything."

"Yes, you do," she said her voice rising in anger. "Dauntless belongs to me as much as it belongs to you, and you can't keep information like that from me – from us."

"Tris, you are a child still…."

"No," she flung back at him. "You send me out there to kill people, to take their lives in retribution, and yet you sit here and dare to call me a child. I risk my life on every mission you give me, and you can't even be honest. Well, fuck you, Uncle Mason. I'm not a child, and you know that."

Mason sighed deeply. His niece was too much like her mother at times. Her determination to protect, her thirst to help the underdog, and her fearlessness made her a formidable adversary without her _extra_ abilities.

"Your father and Marcus Eaton were once good friends," Amar interjected gently before looking over at Four. "The three of us were quite a team."

"My father wasn't a part of Dauntless," Tris stated steadily, trying to rein in her emotions. Her father had hated his family's connection to Dauntless, never completely agreeing with its policies, nor could he understand its carefree way of living.

"That's true," Amar assented, "but Marcus was once. He was an asset to our agents, trying to negotiate with the underbelly of society, trying to save their lives before us deadly Dauntless agents got to them. Your father and Marcus were alike in their ambitions for the city."

"You were an active agent?" Tris exclaimed, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.

"Don't look so shocked, sweet cheeks," Amar answered her with a smile.

"My father negotiated for peace?" Four finally acknowledge, his voice unsteady.

"Yes," Amar said with a nod. "He was great with words."

"The best we had," Mason added.

Four was silent again, taking in all this new information.

Mason watched Four as he sat back down in the chair. Tris perched herself on the arm of his chair, photo still in hand, and, as if unconsciously, Four's arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer.

"Four," he said, his eyes irrationally riveted to the couple in front of him, remembering the conversation he had with Tris about the first time the two of them met, "has anything happened to you that you can't explain?"

"What do you mean?" Four asked, his brow wrinkling in question and his eyes full of suspicion.

Mason looked at the other occupants in the room, and Amar nodded slightly to him. "Have you ever wondered why our success rate is so high?"

Four shrugged, "Good training."

Mason smiled. "Well, apart from that."

Four shook his head, unsure where Mason was going with this.

Mason settled back against the leather of his chair. "There are some people who have the capacity to use a percentage of their brain that usually goes unused."

Four let out a snort. "The age old myth that we only use 10% of our brain?"

"No, that's bullshit," Mason acknowledged. "Of course we use more than 10% of our brains. But there is a small percentage of our brains that goes untapped. Those who can access this are usually stuck with the title of freak, like psychics, telekinetics or empaths." Mason paused before continuing, his eyes intent upon Four. "Some of our agents have this capacity, and through it, they have their own special abilities. They can move things: the air, specifically. Molecules of the air. They can bend their minds to a different way of thinking, a different course of action you could say."

Four listened as Mason explained to him the uniqueness of some of the Dauntless's agents, his mind grappling the irrationally of it all. Oddly, he was reminded of the Marvel Comics he'd read as a child. _People didn't have such capabilities in the real world, did they?_

"We use neurons to think," Mason continued. "Most people can handle a small percentage of these neurons firing at once without suffering some kind of side effect. But not some of our agents and, as I suspect, not you. We have agents who can move the very air around them and manipulate the atoms to change the course of moving objects. They can stop the air from moving or move it to their advantage. We call these agents _Divergent_."

"Why not call them Jedi Masters?" Four laughed.

Mason ignored that comment, but Caleb muffled a snort of laughter.

"With this ability, they can control a bullet?" Four asked, leaning forward in his chair slightly, his thoughts rushing back to the night he first met the Dauntless agents and the ease in which Tris had shot three of those men in the alley.

"No, they can't control a bullet," Mason said, "but they can control the air around the bullet to change the trajectory of it."

Four looked at Tris, remembering the way the air stopped when he saw her in the club.

"They can close doors without moving," he said, his eyes locked with hers, and she knew he saw her do just that with the door to her room.

Mason noticed the look that passed between his niece and his newest agent.

"Tris, why don't you demonstrate?"

"Sure," she said. Her eyes flicked a little, and the chair Mason was in shot back across the room, slamming into the wall behind him. Mason's eyes widened in surprise at the magnitude of power used against him. His brain registering that her abilities had greatly improved since he had last observed her training, and he filed away a thought to check in on her next workout.

Mason stood from his chair, brushed his clothes absentmindedly and brought his chair back to his desk.

"Thank you, Tris," he said as he sat back down, and she smirked back at him.

Mason again shifted his eyes back to Four.

"Your father was a member of Dauntless, a collection of the most powerful assassins the world has ever known," Mason repeated, and Four blanched at Mason's statement. "Your father knew of this ability, maybe he knew you were Divergent as well."

"What?" Four cried out, disbelieving.

Mason remained calm as he watched a myriad of emotions flit across Fours face. "Has anything like this happened to you?"

Four thought about this. _Had anything like this happened to him?_ An image burst into his mind; his partner, Jason, lying motionless on the floor beneath a teetering plane of glass. Four's heart plummeting when he realized he wouldn't reach him in time. He unconsciously held out his arms out, his mind laughing at him, _Like you can move him,_ and Jason had slid a few inches out of danger. Then the image changed, and he saw Tris in the club where they had first met, his heartbeat altering slightly; the air around him stopped and crackled with electricity.

Mason watched as Four's face told him what he needed to know.

"People live by the rules set before them. We take them on faith that they are right. But how many times in your life have you thought you had a better way? A way that is against the rules? Rules are made to be broken, Four. Don't you want to break the rules?" Mason asked with a sly grin.

"Every day," Four said simply, his eyes lowering slightly.

He looked up again, quickly as another question entered his mind. "Are all the agents here Divergent? Are they all able to do…?" He waved his hand as if to indicate what Tris had done.

"No, not all," Mason responded. "It is an ability that only a select number of people have."

Four turned to Tris, "How many?"

"Seven," she replied evenly.

"And how many agents?"

"Sixteen in total."

"We try to partner our non-Diveregnts with those with the ability," Mason provided.

Four again turned to Tris, "Who's your partner?"

"I am," Caleb piped up from his position by the bookshelf.

"Tris and Caleb are considered our best agents," Mason said. "They are Prior's, and the Prior family has been producing Divergents for generations, though Tris is the first female to have the ability."

Caleb bristled at his uncles words. It was true, the Priors have been producing Divergents for generations, but his uncle failed to mention that all three of his own generation, him and his two brothers, lacked this ability. And he also failed to divulge that Caleb wasn't Divergent. To Caleb, it seemed that the Powers That Be had made up for this by giving his sister the abilities that outranked any other.

"What can I say?" Tris quipped, interrupting Caleb's thoughts. "I'm exceptional."

"That you are, my dear," Mason returned with a fond smile. He turned his attention back to the young man.

"Four, go have some dinner, and then get some sleep. Training will start tomorrow morning."

Four started to say something when Tris stopped him with a squeeze of her hand on his shoulder.

"I'll have a room prepared for you," Mason continued, but stopped at Tris's look. "Okay, I won't have a room prepared for you."

Four heard Caleb snigger behind him as he stood when Tris stood.

Mason held his hand out to Four. "Welcome to Dauntless, Four."

…

Across town, a tall, muscular figure sauntered down a stark corridor. He had light, thick hair and tanned skin. His features were sharp, and he was easily considered attractive to a random passerby as long as a person didn't stand too close or look into his eyes. His eyes were cruel, calculating, and showed a glimmer of evil, almost echoing his black soul. His destination loomed in the distance, and he ran a nervous hand through his hair.

It had been a few years since he had been called in to a meeting with Jeanine Matthews. His last job had given him enough funds to hide away for a while, but he has lost the last of his money at a craps table in Vegas.

The phone call calling him back in could not have come at a more convenient time.

He knocked quickly on the cheap door, silently wondered why they always meet in such dingy places. Jeanine had money, prestige, and an office building downtown.

"Come in," he heard and swiftly opened the door, stepping in and closing the door behind him.

"Eric," Jeanine said evenly in way of a greeting. She was a reasonably tall woman, with bright blonde hair and a sharp nose. She looked every part the commercial business woman, but she was ambitious and single-minded and that was a deadly combination.

Eric just nodded in response.

"Eric, Mr. Black has decided to give us another chance," Jeanine revealed.

"Huh?" Eric asked, shocked.

"He has requested our services again," she explained with exasperation. "In the same matter that we were contracted for eight years ago."

"The same target?" Eric quizzed, his eyebrows rising and a sly grin spreading across his face.

"The target you let get away!" Jeanine replied sternly.

"And he wants me for this job?" Eric was amazed. He had failed to complete the mission the first time around. He'd had fun, almost the best time ever on a job like this one. In fact, he had recreated that scenario a few times during the past eight years, always staying a few steps ahead of the local PD.

"He _appreciated_ your creativity, shall we say?" Jeanine said with an evil sneer.

Eric's eyes sparkled a little as his mind exploded with images from the time spent with their clients intended target, and he returned Jeanine's look.

"He had just one request," Jeanine added, as if it was an after-thought.

"What's that?"

Jeanine moved quickly, a hand flashing out, the blade of the knife in her grip shining in the dank room as it came to rest against Eric's throat.

"DO NOT mess up this time! Have your fun, if you insist, but the target must be eliminated."

"Eliminated," Eric returned with a nod.

…

 **Happy New Year to you all. Celebrate sensibly guys and enjoy the night.**


	9. Chapter 9

Happy Wednesday, everyone, and welcome to new readers. It completely blows me away that this story is still drawing readers in, it's so awesome.

I loved all the reviews from the last chapter, you guys have some solid, intriguing thoughts on the plot this story. Its makes me so happy to read them, though I have to admit I've struggled over this last week as my account wasn't letting me read your reviews :( but that's all changed now and I finally got around to seeing them yesterday.

As always, thanks to those guests who leave a review, its so appreciated, and thanks for the alerts, follows, and favorites.

So on to Chapter Nine...Let the training begin...

* * *

Chapter Nine

The next morning found Four sitting in the large dining room, eating a hearty breakfast, and feeling quite apprehensive regarding his upcoming morning. He had an innate feeling this training would be completely different from his experience at the police academy.

He had no idea where Tris was. She had been gone when he had woken that morning, so after finding a pair of sweats and a t-shirt laid out for him, he showered alone in her gigantic shower. He vaguely wondered what would become of his apartment and his job, though he recalled Mason saying in their initial meeting he may be able to keep his job. Would that be possible? Could he continue working as a detective for the CPD, then spend his nights as a glorified vigilante for the Dauntless? Could he see himself as some kind of urban superhero?

He watched as the workers of Dauntless filtered in and out of the dining room as he started on his meal. The word must have spread throughout the large house that he was a new member because no one looked at him in surprise. It was as if he was expected to be there.

He was halfway through his breakfast when Caleb sauntered into the room. Four watched as Caleb quickly scanned the hall and, spotting him, walked over to the table where he was seated.

"Are you ready?" Caleb asked, his voice gentle.

Four looked up at him incredulous. "I'm eating," he stated, pointing to his meal with his knife.

Caleb just shook his head and indicated to a member of the kitchen staff who was standing by the internal door to the kitchen. The man hurried forward and quickly swiped Four's plate away from him.

"Looks like you're done," Caleb smirked.

Four watched as his breakfast disappeared into the kitchen. Putting his cutlery down, he slowly raised his coffee cup to his lips, purposely taking his time. His eyes lifted to Caleb as he sipped the brew leisurely, savoring every drop as Caleb's look got more and more annoyed.

Placing his cup back down, he stood. "Okay, I'm ready."

Caleb promptly turned on his heel and walked out without ensuring Four was following him.

After a few twist and turns along the hallways of the house, and down a set of plain teak wood stairs, Caleb led Four into a room that could only be described as a workout heaven. It was about the size of a high school gym with charcoal gray brick walls with a pair of double doors at the end of the hall.

The room held a vast array of exercise machines, several rows of weights, and a large, central area covered in mats. The room was surprisingly devoid of people, apart from four figures by the mats, and Caleb was heading in their direction.

As Four drew nearer to the designated area, he recognized Zeke from yesterday. There was another man, older with slightly graying hair, another who looked like a taller version of Zeke, and Tris, who was sitting, straddling a weight bench. He guessed that explained where she had disappeared to. He raised his eyebrow at her. She just smiled sweetly.

The older man met him in the middle of the mats. He was a mass of muscle and pure power radiated from him.

"Good morning, Four. My name is Max. I'll be overseeing your training."

Four accepted his handshake and then turned to the three men.

"So, are you guys gonna be training me?" he asked them.

"Yes," Max answered for them.

"I'm Uriah," Uriah greeted Four, stepping forward to shake his hand. "I'm Zeke's younger brother but I think we can all agree I'm the better looking Pedrad."

"Four," Four returned with a tight smile. "Why is she here?" he asked, tipping his head in Tris's direction.

"For your training," Max replied.

"What! You want me to train with her?" Tris had explained she was involved with training new recruits, he just never expected her to be actively involved in his training.

"She will be part of your training," Caleb said with a sneer.

"Will you all please just stop talking about me like I'm not here?" Tris huffed.

Four looked suspiciously at her, ignoring her outburst. What possible reason was there for Tris to be involved in his training? Surely they didn't expect him to hit her?

"What part of the training?" he asked, swinging his head back to Caleb.

"That doesn't matter at the moment," he replied with a grin. "What matters is Zeke."

"Why?"

Four didn't get a chance to ask any further questions as Zeke's fist hit him square on his jaw. Immediately, the area felt like it was on fire, and he tasted the distinct metallic bitterness of blood in his mouth.

"Be prepared at all times, Four," Max told him as he heard Caleb and Uriah chuckle low.

"I wasn't ready," Four spat out, along with a mouthful of blood.

"I'm sure we could hold up a fight with our enemies until you're ready," Caleb quipped sarcastically.

Four brought his fists up as he mirrored Zeke's movements.

Soon, both men were consumed in their dance, punches being made as they circled each other in the workout area. Some of the punches hit their marks, others fell short.

Max stood back, observing the fighters carefully, waiting and watching for Four's weaknesses. He moved around the edge of the mat slowly, his eyes never leaving the two agents, until he was standing beside Tris, who was still seated upon the bench, her own eyes intent on the two fighting. Uriah stood to her other side, his stance wide, and his arms folded across his chest. He was also engrossed in watching the two spar, while Caleb just looked bored.

"He moves pretty quick," Max said to Tris.

Tris nodded distractedly as she watched Four and Zeke. Four was obviously a good fighter and was giving Zeke just as much as he received. He moved with a fluidity that showed this was nothing new to him, his eyes were intent, focused, as he watched Zeke moved around the mats. He was quick, his movements calculated and precise, his mind quickly evaluating every action his opponent made and assessing the best damage he could inflict on Zeke.

Four lost himself in the fight with Zeke, his mind focusing completely on moving around the mats as he parried back and forth with the man in front of him. Zeke was good, a well-trained fighter who knew the more tender places to hit a body, and Four appreciated that.

Their bodies were slick with sweat and beginning to bruise when Zeke finally fell to the mats, a second or two passing before he held his hands up in surrender. Four offered Zeke his hand and helped him to his feet.

"You okay?" Four asked.

"I'm good," Zeke mumbled, his other hand rubbing at his jawline. "That's quite a right hook you have."

Four smirked at him. "Yeah, I've been told."

Zeke just nodded as he moved over to the bench were Tris was sitting and collapsed on the floor beside it.

"He knows how to fight, that's for sure," he grumbled.

"I can see," Tris smiled down to him.

"My turn," Uriah sang out as he moved to the center mat. He was grinning widely, his enthusiasm for what was about to happen projecting to everyone.

Caleb looked down to Zeke. "Your brother is a little manic at times."

"At times?" Zeke shot back disbelieving. "He's nuts all the time."

"That's why we're friends," Caleb agreed. "We both have insane siblings."

"Hey," Tris interrupted. "I'm right here, ya know."

"And we still love ya," Zeke grinned to her.

Tris huffed at the two of them and turned her attention back to Four and Uriah.

Uriah was like her: Divergent. So this fight was, for the time being, a little unfairly matched. Uriah had been training with his abilities for years and while the consensus was Four, too, was Divergent, he didn't have the slightest clue how to use that to his advantage.

She winced, echoing Four's grimace, as Uriah used a little extra force in a right hook to his jaw. Four retaliated with a left jab followed by a right cross, and then a left hook.

"Too quick," Tris said to no-one in particular, her head tipping slightly to the side, and then she winced again when Uriah's right fist connected with Four's body just above his left kidney. "He needs to slow down. To move with the air, not against it."

"He doesn't understand that, Tris," Zeke said, lifting his body from the floor and bending his knees up to lean his elbows on them. "You might need to show him how," he grinned to her.

Tris returned his smile and wiggled her shoulders up and down, as if excited to get started.

All too soon, Four had clearly lost the fight, his face speckled in black-and-blue bruises and blood running from his nose, while Uriah was relatively unmarked. Four didn't know what was worse, losing a fight, or losing to someone obviously younger than him.

"Take five minutes," Max called out.

Four looked up and then collapsed onto the mat, lying flat on his back, his arms sprawled above his head, his legs apart.

He felt, rather than saw, Tris as she walked over to him and squatted down beside him. "How are you holding up?"

"I don't know," he breathed out. "You're the one watching. What do you think?"

"I can't tell you that," she returned with a secretive smile. "That would be cheating."

"And having him use his freaky superpowers against me, that's not cheating?" Four huffed.

"They're not powers, Four, they're abilities. You can use it, too. You've just got to find your trigger," Tris explained.

Four sat up a little, propping himself back on his elbows. Tris moved forward and wiped the blood away from his face. "You look hot when you fight," she grinned with a sexy half smile.

"Tris," Four gave a slight snort of laughter. "This is not the time for you to get all horny on me."

Tris looked innocently at him, unaware that she was actually pouting.

"And don't pull that pout out, either."

"You're no fun when you're cranky," she muttered as she stood and walked away from him.

…

Two hours later, and Four was struggling to catch his breath, while Uriah had hardly broken a sweat.

Uriah sauntered over to Tris and she handed him a bottle of water from the cooler.

"He packs a pretty hard punch," he said, absentmindedly rubbing his ribs.

Tris watched as Four again rested on the mats. His lip was split in three different places, there was a cut above his right eye, red blotches all across his face, and Tris was sure that if she lifted his t-shirt, his body would resemble a black and blue zebra.

She stood, reached for another bottle, and walked back over to him.

"Am I dead yet?" she heard him croak as she drew nearer.

"Not yet," she quipped as she again dropped next to him, this time sitting completely on the mats.

"Sit up, Four," she instructed, and she tried to help him into a sitting position.

When he was suitably sitting by himself, she held the bottle of water out for him. His eyes flicked over to her, pleadingly, and she rolled her own. She uncapped the bottle of water and held it out to his lips.

Once he had swallowed a little of the water, he licked his lips, coating them with the cooling liquid. "Even my eyeballs hurt," he mumbled.

Tris tenderly ran her fingers over his sore, swollen face. "My poor man," she cooed.

"Am I done yet?" he asked hopefully.

"You haven't even started," she replied with a laugh.

"Oh, shit," he said as he relaxed back against the mats again. "I don't think my body will hold out."

"Trust me, it will hold out. You will just become very familiar with the units."

"This isn't training, Tris. This is Uriah wiping the floor with my ass. How is he doing that?"

"It's training Four. It's what we all go through," she said, not answering his question.

"Someone did this to you?" he asked her, shocked.

"Every day for two weeks," she replied with a shrug. "I was a little stubborn!"

"Was it a woman, at least?" he asked, a little distressed that someone had beat the crap out the slight girl before him for two solid weeks.

"No," Tris returned simply, her eyes holding his.

Four growled at her answer. "Does he still work here?"

"Yes, and don't go all caveman on me, Four. I got my revenge, don't you worry."

"Good," he mumbled, and they both turned their heads when they detected movement.

"Okay, pretty boy, let's go again," Uriah sneered as he moved back into the middle of the mats. "Are you joining in, T?" he asked his friend as he jumped around Four, adrenaline coursing through his body.

"Not this time," Tris said as she stood then reached down to help Four up.

Four gratefully took her offered hand and let her pull him to his feet. He stood a little shakily at first then found his balance and slowly brought his fists up, eyeing Uriah and trying to figure which side his opponent would come at first.

As much as he had been anticipating the hit, it was still a shock when it came.

Tris walked back to the bench, bottle of water in her hand. "I don't think he's gonna be able to take much more today," she told Max.

"So I won't be able to show off my skills?" Caleb asked dejectedly.

Tris shook her head. "Not today, Caleb. Sorry."

"He's done a lot better than I thought he would," Max acknowledged.

"Yeah, almost three hours and he's still standing," Zeke agreed.

"He's a good fighter, he just needs to find that trigger to access his abilities," Caleb commented. "He did pretty well against Zeke.

"He would probably hold his own against you as well, Caleb," Tris grinned, knowing she was hitting at a raw nerve. Caleb's fighting abilities were sparse to begin, he wasn't a natural fighter. He held his own in combat, even managed to do his fair share of damage to his opponent, but he preferred to fight with weapons and not his fists.

They watched in silence again as Uriah executed a roundhouse kick that caught Four across his ribs, and he hissed in pain.

"Well, if you won't be needing me, I have a report to file," Zeke said, and he turned to leave.

"Hey Zeke," Tris called out to him, stopping him. "Pull your head out of your ass. Tori won't wait around forever, you know."

Zeke looked at her quizzically and when Tris raised a knowing eyebrow at him in challenge, he nodded and left.

Half an hour later, Four was again laid out on the floor.

"Okay, I'm calling it for today," Tris said, looking at Max. "I think he's had enough."

"Tris, don't go all mushy on me just because you're sleeping with the guy," Max said.

"I'm not, Max," Tris returned indignantly. "It's his first day. Give him a break."

"And what do I say to the boss when he asks why he was done so early?"

"I know what I'd like to say to the boss," she mumbled, still bristling from the fact Mason had kept vital information from her. She looked back at Max to see his expectant look. Had he really expected her to answer his question?

She shrugged at him. "Tell him I pulled rank!"

"Aren't I higher in rank than you?"

Tris smirked at him. "Only in age, old man."

"Okay, Uriah," Tris called out before Max could say anymore. "That's it for today."

Uriah turned to her, his face dripping with sweat and a look of disappointment, but he nodded once. He looked back down at Four where he laid sprawled on the mat. "You fight good, cop," he grinned. "Once you find your strength, maybe you'll beat me."

With that, he walked away, trying hard to hide a limp that indicated he was hurt more than he let on.

Tris watched him leave, shaking his head at him as she walked over to the wall-mounted phone to make the call to transfer Four over to the medics.

…

Four was sitting on the edge of the unit, a fluffy, white robe covering him, when Tris strolled into the room. She was dressed in a dark tailored pant suit, the jacket held together with one button and he had a feeling there was very little clothing under it. She looked incredible.

"That's not right, Blondie," he called to her as she sauntered closer, her heels playing out an even staccato on the marble flooring.

"What?" she asked, cocking her head to the side slightly, quizzically.

"You covering those legs. I'm sure it's a crime. I may have to arrest you," he smirked at her as best he could with his swollen, broken lip.

"That's not the first time you've threatened to arrest me," Tris laughed.

"Hey, got to get you in cuffs somehow."

"I'm sure there are better ways," she teased, knowing full well he had no chance in hell achieving that.

"You running out on me?"

"I've got to go in to the office," she explained. "So when you're done, why don't you check the place out? There are basketball courts out back, a pool in the basement near the gym. And a games room I'm told is pretty amazing. Caleb will be around all day."

"I don't think your brother likes me very much!" he grumbled.

"Well, I'm sure Tess is around here somewhere," she retorted.

"That's okay, Tris. I think I'll be safer with Caleb."

"I think you're right. I'll see ya later, okay?"

"Don't work too hard."

"' _Work too hard,'_ I don't think that phrase equates to me," she replied with a smirk, then she leaned over and kissed him quickly. Then she was gone.

…

The next day Four was in exactly the same position with Uriah using him as a human punch bag, though this time Four seemed to have learned, and he anticipated the other man's moves a lot easier and actually managed to land a few good hits himself.

"Okay, stop," Max called, and the two men stopped mid punch and turned to him. "Zeke. Your turn."

Uriah sniggered at Four as he moved from the mats and Zeke took his position in front of the man he knew would become his partner.

Four eyed him cautiously. "Can you do the freaky Divergent thing?"

"No, I'm not Divergent," Zeke responded.

Four smiled at that, "Good."

His grin soon vanished as Zeke began to pummel him, but just like last time, Four managed to hold his own and get in some good hits.

Max put a stop to their sparring as he walked over to them.

"You can't think of a person's ability when you're in a fight," he told Four. "Just because Zeke can't manipulate the air doesn't make him any less of an opponent. Much like just because Tris is a girl doesn't mean she can't kill a man with her bare hands."

Four let these words register as he looked over to the small, delicate girl sitting on a workout bench. He had not doubt that she could do exactly what Max had implied, but it was still an incredible thing to him.

Max watched as Four returned to dueling Zeke, then without turning his head said, "Tris."

Tris eagerly jumped up from her seat and gleefully walked over to them.

"Don't hurt him too much, Bea," Caleb jeered at her. "I'm sure you'll want him to _perform_ later."

Tris stood in front of the guy who was fast becoming someone she could not imagine living without, and her mind struggled against her heart. It was impossible to feel this strongly for someone she hardly knew. She angrily pushed her thoughts away. This was not the time for personal reflection.

"You ready?" she asked him with a sly smile, her body swaying slightly with anticipation.

"I won't hit you, Tris," Four said simply.

"You're gonna have to because I'm gonna hit you, Four." She turned quickly on the spot, striking him with a roundhouse kick to the waist.

Four recoiled from the hit, hissing, and moved away from her slightly.

"Come on, Four, what are you gonna do if your target is a woman?" she taunted. "You can't just pick and choose you know." And she moved and hit him again, a little higher this time, striking his ribs.

"Shit, Tris."

"Get angry if you have to, Four," she continued before she stopped her moving around him and stepped closer, their bodies an inch apart. "It's okay. I trust you." She paused for a second, almost as if in thought. "You won't really be able to hurt me, anyway."

And she lifted her right arm, and hit her elbow into the side his face.

Four lifted his hand to wipe away the blood that trickled from the corner of his mouth, still refusing to hit her.

"Just knock him out, Tris," Caleb called out from the side lines. "That will get him mad when he comes to."

Tris knew she had to get through to Four. He had to learn that in a fight, things may not always go the way he would like or expect.

"Sorry," Tris said softly. "Believe me, this hurts me just as much as you."

"What does?"

She gave him a sympathetic half smile then swiftly lifted her knee, and it connected hard with his groin.

As Four doubled over with a loud groan and his eyes wide in shock, Tris sprang into action. She jumped into the air, her elbow bent as her left arm crossed her body, and she dropped her elbow onto the soft flesh between his neck and shoulder.

Four fell to his knees as pain shot through his body, and Tris went for the knock out. She twisted her upper body to the left, bending her right arm slightly, and her fist collided with the side of his head, crunching with the impact as she manipulated the air to harden the blow. With a groan, Four fell unconscious beneath her on the mat.

…

Four drifted to consciousness after some time. He could feel someone moving gently on his left side and turning his head, he saw Tris working gracefully through a series of exercises. He watched her silently until she turned and saw him.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, never stopping her movements.

"I guess," he replied, pulling his body up into a sitting position. His rubbed the side of his head where her fist had collided with it. "You pack quite a powerful punch."

Tris halted, mid-move, and looked at him. She straightened up and walked over to him. "I'm sorry, Four, but you need to learn. You can't feel pity for an opponent."

"I pity anyone who comes up against you," he mumbled as she came to a stop beside him.

She stepped one leg over him and squatted down, coming face to face with him. Shrugging one shoulder, she gave him half a smile. "I wouldn't pity anyone who faces me, Four. They obviously did something that deserves punishment."

Four lifted one hand and brushed a few wisps of her fine hair from her sweaty forehead. He nodded his head in the direction she had been. "What was that?"

Tris shifted so she was sitting in his lap. "It's yoga. It helps me focus. You should try it."

Four laughed. "I'm not doing any kind of pansy-ass movements."

"They're not pansy-ass, Four," she said with a huff. "It helps to center your body and spirit as well as to tone your body. You know, Adam Levine switched from weight-lifting to yoga, and his body is totally lust worthy."

"Who's Adam Levine?" Four grumbled.

Tris shook her head at him. "Have you not heard of Maroon 5?"

"Is that like a new cult or something?"

"No, Four. Maroon 5 is a band."

Four snorted. "Metallica. Now that's a band."

Tris shook her head. "Trust me, Four. Just give it a try." And she stood, holding her hand out to him. He clasped her hand and let her pull him from the floor.

As he scrambled to his feet, she added. "Ya know, there are also studies that say one of the benefits of yoga is better sex."

"Let's get to it then," he returned with a smile.

He stood beside her and mirrored her movements. He felt self-conscious and awkward and was glad there was no one else around to see him.

He followed her as she bent at the waist and placed her palms flat against the mat. Well, he tried to, grunting in the process. She stepped one leg back, her hands not moving and arched her back.

He tried to copy her movement, stretching his leg back and, again, another grunt escaped his lips. Shifting his eyes, he caught her smirking at him and he was resolved to continue.

When she moved her bent leg to join her outstretched one, he shadowed her movement. From that position he quickly executed a couple of press-up, just to impress.

She chose to ignore him as she lowered her body to the mat and arched back, pressing on her hands and straightening her elbows.

His backbone protested as he mimicked her.

She curled her toes under, pressed her heels down into the mat, and lifted her hips, straightening her arms, and this time, he groaned. Not from any pain but from the suggestive pose she was holding.

"Four," she hissed. "Concentrate."

"I'm trying to," he mumbled as he struggled into the same pose. His muscle's started to tremble as she held the position for longer than she really needed to. A second later, he crashed to the mat, and Tris giggled as she lowered herself next to him.

"Not as easy as it looks, is it?" she asked.

Four just shook his head.

"Come on, we'll try something else."

And she stood.

Four sighed as he clambered to his feet, and started to follow her again.

Her next choice of movements seemed a lot easier, and Four soon found himself lost in the controlled movements.

He watched as her hands moved slowly up and above her head, and his eyes were drawn to her long fingers, and his body shifted involuntarily until he held her flush against his front.

"Four, I don't think that's an actually position!"

"It's not?" he smirked as he brought his lips to her neck.

"No," she answered, but she tipped her head to give him better access.

"Maybe we need to re-write the instruction manual."

"Maybe," she agreed, reaching for his hands and wrapped his arms around her.

He lifted his hand higher to cover her breast. "I like this kind of training better."

"Willing to admit your technique needs to improve. I like that," she giggled.

"I need to improve?" he asked, incredulous.

Tris turned in his arms. "Absolutely not."

She reached up to kiss him, slowly, teasing him with her tongue.

He sank with her down to the floor, tugging her top off as they went.

"You do realize there are active cameras in here?" she breathed out as his lips encased her nipple.

"We'll get the tape later, Blondie."

…


	10. Chapter 10

Hello, you fabulous people, it's that time of day again, another update from The Dauntless. I hope you are all having a truly awesome day wherever you are in the world.

As usually, welcome to new readers, thanks to all for the favorites, follows, and alerts, you guys never cease to amaze me, seriously.

Thanks to the guests that review, your thoughts amaze me.

And straight on to Chapter Ten...enjoy!

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Chapter Ten

The next day was very much the same as the day before: Four being pummeled by Zeke or Uriah while Caleb and Tris stood by and watched.

Four had asked Tris one evening while she was giving him a glorious back massage to ease his muscles after a day of fighting, why beating him to a pulp was part of Dauntless training?

Tris thought for a second before giving her answer. "To be able to control the things we are able to, you have to find your trigger. To find that. you have to be open to the possibilities that anything is possible."

"And I have to be near death to find that out?" he asked, his voice muffled slightly by the soft mattress of the bed.

"No, not near death, but….." she searched for the right words. "Compliant, I guess."

"I don't need the crap beating out of me to be obedient."

Tris smirked from her position astride Four's butt, then she leaned forward to place a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades. "That's good to know, Four."

Four shivered at the feel of her lips on his slick skin. "Sorry, Blondie, I ache too much for any fun tonight, so get back to work."

"Whatever you say," Tris grinned as she returned to a sitting position and got back to working on his shoulders.

She felt his muscles relax again under the pads of her fingers. "Can I ask you something?" she inquired cautiously.

Four swallowed nervously as best he could in his position, knowing what she was gonna ask and surprised it had taken her this long to bring it up. He nodded.

"Why 'Four'?"

"I had just started college and needed some extra cash. The research department needed subjects to undergo some sort of experiment, so I volunteered." He groaned as she hit a particular sore knot of muscles in his neck, pausing in his explanation while she worked that area.

He felt her lean away from him and turned his head to watch her pour more oil onto her hands before she returned to his back, this time her agile hands worked the muscles at his spine.

"They were testing this serum that they injected into you which caused simulations of your fears," he continued eventually. "They hook you up to a computer and they can see what's in your mind."

"Was a Professor David in charge?" Tris asked, her voice low and soothing.

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"David used to work for Dauntless. That serum is something he developed for us. It's one of the components to our training. To face your fears."

"Huh," Four grunted out. "I guess I was part of Dauntless before I even knew about it."

Tris was silent again for a moment, thinking about what he had said. "Four," she said eventually. "Four fears?"

"Four then," he answered. "I guess we'll see if it still Four now."

"So why be called Four, why not your name?" she probed, her hand gliding easily over his back, the massage forgotten.

"My name represented something I wanted to forget," he said shakily. "A buddy of mine was a test subject with me and when he heard I only had four fears, he decided that would be my new name."

The room was filled with silent again, her gentle hands moving gracefully over the vast tattoo on his back.

"Four's a pretty impressive low number of fears," she offered. "Most here had fifteen to twenty."

"What's your number?"

She rolled off his back and onto her side beside him, smiling at his face scrunched against the comforter. "Six."

"Pretty impressive," he repeated.

"It was," she agreed. "Until now." She smirked at him. "You're gonna steal my legendary status."

"I don't know," he smiled back, wanting to move but his body still unwilling to move. "Maybe my fears have changed. I may have to change my name to two-hundred and fifty."

"Afraid of everything," she said. "Somehow I don't see that happening." She rolled off the bed and moved toward the bathroom.

"Where you going," Four mumbled, almost asleep.

"To run you a bath," she answered as she disappeared into the room.

"I could get used to this," he said to himself, his eyelids drifting together.

…

It was on the fourth day when Tris began to see a difference in the way Four anticipated Uriah's actions, as well as making an impact with his own hits. She could almost feel the change in the air, the way it moved with him with ease. She had a feeling he didn't realize what he was doing, that the instinct was taking over, and he was flowing with it.

He was holding his own against Uriah now, even beating the younger man down to the mat twice. She could see the euphoria running through him, knew he was understanding the power he had but still needed to learn even the smallest amongst them could be the most powerful.

"Stop," she called out, causing all the males in the room to stop and turn to her.

She grinned at them; Zeke, Uriah, Caleb, and Four, all out on the blue mats in front of her, Max standing beside her.

"Drop and give me 50," she called out sternly, and smirked when Zeke and Uriah were instantly on the floor and starting their press-ups. Caleb whined. "Come on, Tris. Stop with this controlling shit."

"Caleb," she warned.

"Fuck," he mumbled and he too fell to the ground and started on his press-ups.

She raised an eyebrow to Four, who had yet to move. "Is that how it is here," he asked. "You call out instructions and everyone complies."

"In here, yes," she replied. "You have to be able to take orders in a split instant. You know this, you're a cop.

"Yeah, but…"

"Four," she warned, her look hard.

Four stood his ground for a second or two more, their gaze almost battling, before he followed the guys beside him.

"And because you questioned me, you can give me a hundred," she added, grinning at him.

…

On the fifth day, Tris informed Four that they would be working on a different aspect of his training, and she led him to a building near the garage. She stopped briefly at the door to punch a security code in the keypad set back in the wall.

"When do I get all the security codes?" Four asked.

"When you have passed training," was her short reply.

"Do you think I won't pass?" he questioned her.

"Not in the least," she replied with a smile.

When they entered, Four was greeted with rows upon rows of weapons against two walls of the building. Beretta's, Glock's, Smith & Wesson's and Walther's lined one wall, all encased in what seemed like specially made displayed cabinets, without the glass and all held up on hooks. Another wall held an array of rifles: Winchesters, Barrett M82s, and shotguns: Mossberg 500s and Benelli M4s. Along the bottom of all the rows of guns were box upon box of ammunition. Behind a wall of bulletproof glass and taking up three-quarters of the length of the long room were four firing lanes, partitioned at the shooting tables with blue screens. Not quite the same style of practice range he was familiar with but similar enough. Small ventilation outlets topped the far wall to control exposure to airborne lead and the ever-standard torso targets hung at the end of each firing lane. The only obscure thing that Four could see were four butcher hooks that hung from the ceiling, one in each lane, about halfway down.

"Each agent has their own guns, but they are stored here," she said, indicating behind him to another room adjacent to the main room. Four walked over to peer in and found an area of built-in gun storage systems, numbering 20 in all. Each door had a label attached, much like a locker, and squinting slightly, he could make out names.

"No weapons are allowed in the main house. You can pick which ones you want and Dauntless will provide whatever you ask for. You are expected to keep your own guns clean and in pristine working condition."

She watched as Four turned and walked back to her, making sure he was taking in what she was saying.

"During your time training you will make one bullet. What you do with that bullet is up to you."

"I don't know how to make a bullet," Four interrupted.

"That's why it's called training, Four."

"Do you still have the bullet you made?"

Tris bit her lip before turning away from him, and he almost missed the slight nod she made.

"Are you saving it for anyone in particular?"

"Yes," she said steadily.

"Can I ask who?"

"The bastard who killed my parents."

Four walked over to her, his hand reaching for her, hating to see the obvious pain in her eyes. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

"This isn't the time or the place, Four," she whispered but let herself be drawn into his embrace.

Tris was always reluctant to talk about her parents and their untimely death. In fact, the only person she did talk to about that time was Jack, their psychiatrist, and even that was under duress. The horrors that had befallen her that week hadn't just almost killed her; they had nearly broken her, as well. She may have come to terms with what had happened, but she still found it hard to talk about, even after eight years.

The moment was interrupted by the door opening, and Zeke entered the room. He noticed how close Four and Tris were standing and smirked at them. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Nothing that can't be continued later," Tris answered, quickly covering her discomfort with a small smile. "Zeke is our gun expert," she told Four.

Zeke gave Four a sly smile. "Pick your weapon."

Four walked over to the wall and felt he had entered a gun shop downtown with a free pass to anything he wanted. He walked over to one gun, a Beretta, and lifting it, he felt the weight in his hand and smiled. His fingers caressed the barrel lovingly, but he replaced the weapon in its spot on the wall and reached for another.

Whilst Four was picking out a weapon, Zeke walked through to the smaller room and opened his storage locker, pulling out his favorite Beretta.

Fifteen minutes later and Four held his fourth glock. He tipped the gun to the side and then the other, felt the weight as he had with the previous seven guns, and then held it up, arms outstretched and squinted down the line of fire. He brought it back, and his hand danced over the smooth metal.

"For Christ's sake, Four," Zeke cried exasperated. "You're gonna shoot with it, not make love with it."

Zeke turned to Tris where she was perched on a table, filing a nail. "Is he always this attentive?"

"Always," she confirmed with a smirk.

Four was finally satisfied with the glock in his hand and he turned to Tris, returning her smile.

"Come on then, hotshot, let's see if you shoot as good as you fight," Zeke said, handing Four a box of ammunition and ear protectors, before leading the way through the door within the bulletproof glass.

Four was mildly pleased with Zeke's words. No one had offered him many words of encouragement with his fighting skills and it was nice to know that someone thought he was doing something right.

They each took up position within the shooting booths, Tris remaining behind the glass, and Four loaded the weapon before placing the ear protectors over his ears.

He was dimly aware of Zeke's weapon discharging and watched the target in the distance but could barely make out the impacts.

When Zeke had finished, he pressed the button on the side of the blue screen, and his target moved forward on the ceiling track.

Four was impressed as the sheet came into focus, with bullet holes splattered across the heart and through the head.

Four lifted his own weapon and fired his rounds down the lane. When he was through, he brought his own sheet forward, to show equally outstanding marks, proving he had hit his target.

Following Zeke's movement, he removed his ear protectors.

"Impressive," Zeke conceded and Four nodded his thanks, to which Zeke only smirked.

"Tris," Zeke called and Four turned to see that Tris had taken up position in the booth to his right.

She braced herself in an easy stance, lifted her arms, the small PPK sitting naturally in her hand, and, almost casually, shot off nine rounds.

Four watched as her target sheet was brought forward. She had fired off the full clip of her small gun, but only two holes appeared in the paper. One directly where the heart would be, the other in the middle of the forehead.

Four looked disbelieving between the two of them as Tris smirked at him and Zeke laughed.

"Where did the other bullets go?" he found himself asking.

"They all went through the same holes," Zeke answered.

"That's impossible," Four commented, looking fascinatingly at Tris. Even though he had come to the understanding that she could do remarkable things, to see the proof was amazing.

"There is no such word in my vocabulary," Tris scoffed as she picked up Four's chosen gun and reloaded it. She handed it back, butt first, and indicated with her eyes for him to repeat his shooting.

Four turned back to face the target at the end of the range as Tris stood closer to him.

"Concentrate on the air around the bullet," she instructed. "Fire one bullet."

Four did as she asked and hit his target perfectly.

"Now, aim for exactly the same position. Watch the cartridge; visualize it moving through the same hole. Don't try to move the bullet, shift the air around it." And she rose on her tip-toes so she could follow his line of sight. "Fire another round."

Four fired again, the shot ringing through the air as the round struck the paper half an inch too far to the side of his first mark, widening the hole.

He shook his head, disappointed with himself.

"Don't try too hard," Tris said gently. "Relax, let it happen. Try again."

After three more reloads of his gun, Four's target sheet showed an enlarged hole roughly where the heart would be, indicating that Four may not have passed the bullet easily through the same gap but had at least managed to push the cartridge in the right direction. He still didn't have the finesse Tris possessed, her bullet easily sailing through one opening, but he had made some progress.

Caleb had entered the building while they were shooting, pushing a large, covered, stainless steel trolley in front of him, and he smirked when he saw Four struggling to control the air.

Once there was a lull in the firing, he walked through the door separating the shooting range from the weapon store.

"Are we ready up the ante?" he questioned with a smile.

"I don't think he's quite there yet," Zeke replied.

"What?" Four asked, looking between the two of them.

"Ignore them, Four," Tris huffed, annoyed that her brother had appeared. She was sure he was here just to try and intimidate Four, gloating over the fact the new guy hadn't tapped into his Divergent abilities.

"I just thought he might like to know what he's working toward," Caleb answered with an innocent look.

Four's head swiveled between the three of them. "What am I working up to?"

Tris sighed and waved her arm to Caleb, telling him without words to do what he had obviously come here to do.

Caleb beamed as he moved back into the outer room and pushed the trolley through into the firing range. He removed the white sheet that had been hiding the contents, revealing a huge slab of meat. In fact, when Four looked closer, it looked like a side of pork: a whole side of pork, maybe three feet in length.

Zeke moved over to the firing lanes as Caleb picked up the meat and carried it over to Zeke and between the two of them, they attached it to the hook in the lane that Four was using.

They moved back to Four and Tris. "Tris, do you want to do the honors," Caleb asked her with a smile.

Tris exhaled loudly, letting him know without words that she was pissed at him right now, but she moved forward and took up her position to shoot down the lane.

"The bullet can't go through the meat" Four said with astonishment to Zeke. Zeke shook his head. "Just watch."

Four watched with fascination as Tris brought her gun from behind her back, aimed, and fired one shot. He expected a spattering of pork meat, but it never happened.

Tris tipped her head in the direction of the carcass. "Go take a look."

Four cautiously walked down the lane until he stood in front of the meat. Not a mark was on it. He looked back to the three behind him, his face quizzical, then he caught Tris's gaze, and she gestured again with her head, further down the lane.

Four stood to the side of the pig remains and inhaled sharply when he saw a perfect hole in the target sheet, straight through the heart.

"Holy fuck!" were the only words he could think off.

He moved further down the lane until he was in front of the paper, his hand lifting and his finger poking through the hole, directly over the heart target.

He returned to the others, his face a picture of wonder.

"That's how you did it in the alley. You hardly looked at those two you shot."

She simply nodded.

"How?"

"How what?"

"How do you do it?"

"You feel. Feel the air around the bullet and then nudge the air to make the bullet go where you want it to," she explained.

Caleb smirked at Four. "Wanna give it a try?"

Every shot Four fired hit the meat. Tris tried to explain to him how to move the air, but she knew it was impossible to comprehend. It had been the same for her when she had gone through her training.

Tris had been the youngest person the Dauntless had ever accepted into its ranks, beginning her training at 19 instead of the usual 22. The agents were recruited from all over the country, and most of the current agents had been at least 22 years old before they had begun, some just having graduated college, while others, like Zeke, came from various professions. Zeke had been in the Army when he had been spotted by their recruiter.

Tris remembered her training vividly. It had been brutal and soul-searching. She had so many issues to overcome and was quite unwilling to take orders. The only thing that had spurred her on was her internal mantra – Revenge.

Four needed to find his trigger, the one thing that would open his mind to the possibilities and abilities he possessed.

She moved over to him again and whispered to him, "Let your instincts guide you."

Four turned to her, taking in her words, and then tried again, his bullet hit the meat in the same place again.

"Maybe we should just pack it up for the day?" Zeke stated.

Four's answer was to reload his gun and aim again. Once again he hit the pork!

Tris moved without thinking, coming to stand in front of the carcass facing Four before she realized what she was doing.

"Try again," she said evenly.

"Move out the way," Four replied.

She shook her head. "Shoot the target."

"You're crazy!"

"Tris," Caleb cried out, stepping forward slightly. "What the fuck are you playing at? Move out of the way."

Tris looked straight at Four, her eyes boring into his. "I trust you," she said gently, almost lovingly. "Shoot the target."

"Fuck. No, Tris, get out the way," Four hissed back, his arms still posed to shoot.

"Shoot the target, Four," she repeated, louder and a little harsher.

"Tris, get out of the way," Caleb yelled to her.

"Come on, Tris," Zeke added his voice to the noise. "This isn't funny."

"Come on, Four," Tris teased. "Uriah can do this. Don't let him get one up on you. Your abilities are bound to be better."

"Move. Out. Of. The. Way." Four ground out.

"No," she smirked back.

"Tris, move," Zeke tried.

Four's mind became scrambled as he listened to Tris, Caleb, and Zeke arguing the absurdity of her actions and placing herself willingly in harm's way. The noise level rose and, peripherally, Four saw Caleb move, and without thinking, he pulled the trigger.

Tris held her breath, her eyes still holding his, and she consciously held herself back from changing the air herself. She had faith in Four and his ability, and if not, if he didn't learn how to control the air that very moment, well, judging from the object hurtling toward her, death might be a blessing. Either way she was thankful of the time she had spent with Four.

He watched as the bullet sped toward Tris as if in slow motion. He could see it spinning in the air, deadly and accurate.

He saw the trust in her eyes, and his instinct took over. He visualized the air around the bullet, pushing it on one side, and he saw the cartridge move slightly. So he pushed again, harder, and then harder still. It moved, whizzing past Tris's head, close enough to make wisps of her hair billow as it sailed passed and hit the wall to the side of the paper target.

"Okay," Caleb said, nodding his arm out and patting Four on his shoulder. "Didn't hit the target, but at least you didn't kill the girl you're sleeping with."

"That's always a bonus," Zeke added.

Tris hadn't moved, but she smiled to Four.

Four released the clip in his gun, placed them both on the table behind the booth, took one more look at Tris and then walked out.

"Four," Tris called, moving quickly to follow him.

He didn't answer her, just continued out of the building.

Tris pushed Caleb as she passed him. "You're such a dick, Caleb. Why did you have to bring in the carcass?"

"I'm the dick?" Caleb cried disbelieving. "You're the one who stood in front of it and yelled at him to shoot you."

"Because you were making him feel inferior," she yelled back.

"Who says he isn't inferior," Caleb retorted.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Caleb," Tris quipped, narrowing her eyes at him and she turned to go find Four.

…

Four paced by the edge of the lake, unbelieving of what had just happened. Granted, he had moved the bullet, but if he hadn't, if he couldn't, Tris would have died.

But she didn't force him to pull the trigger, he had done that.

And she had faith in him. She knew he could do it. That's why she put herself in danger.

He didn't hear her approach and jumped slightly when she rested her hand on his back.

"Four," she whispered.

"I could have killed you," he said simply.

"No, Four. If the bullet had hit me, I would be in a unit now. There was no real danger for me. I'm not a fool, you know."

He turned to face her, his eyes steady as he looked at her. "I could have killed you."

Tris saw the obvious pain in his eyes and she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Four reached for her and pulled her into his embrace, practically crushing her face against his chest.

Tris wound her arms around his waist and held on as he gripped her tightly.

"Don't do that again," he said against her hair.

She mutely shook her head in answer.

"You give the best hugs," she mumbled against his chest and the vibration of his low laugh made her smile.

"Not this again?" Four grumbled, referring to their conversation almost a week ago, when she had said his hugs where almost like a teddy bear.

"Yeah, you're a mean, bad tempered bear with the ability to give awesome, comforting hugs," she grinned.

Four simply huffed at her.

After a minute or two she pulled away and looked up at him. "Are we okay?"

Four moved his arm and cupped her head lightly in his hand, the pad of his thumb sweeping over her cheek. He closed the distance between them and lightly pressed his lips to hers.

He didn't deepen the kiss, just continued with tender, sweet passes of his lips which were driving her crazy. He was in control again and Tris fought with her inner demons as she pushed back against him, taking back that control as she held his head in her hands and took the kiss to where she wanted it go, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and hearing him groan in appreciation.

…


	11. Chapter 11

Happy Wednesday! Hope you lovelies are all doing excellent today.

As always, welcome to new readers, and thanks to all who have added The Dauntless to their favorites, alerts, and follows. I'm super happy this is still bringing in new readers.

This chapter is less heavy than the previous ones, but I hope still enjoyable to all.

And so on the chapter eleven...enjoy and don't forget the reviews, they are considered payment

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Chapter 11

Christina, Marlene, and Tori were all lounging by the entrance of their large home, Marlene and Tori each seated in the elegant, ornate armchairs set in the foyer.

"You know, this whole thing was her idea. You'd think she'd have the grace to actually be on time," Christina was grumbling as she paced, the clack of her heels resounding loudly on the marble floor.

"Can I just ask just to be certain? The whole point of this evening to get Tori laid, right?" Marlene quizzed.

"Yes," Christina replied with a huge grin as Tori stated, "No!" with her eyes blazing.

"Well, I'm glad we got that cleared up," Marlene laughed.

"Come on, Tori," Christina groaned as she walked back to their seats. "You need to show Zeke that if he doesn't want the goods, others do. There is no way better to get a man moving than to display your womanly assets elsewhere."

"Is that intimate knowledge you have there, Christina?" Marlene asked, her facing beaming to the other girl.

"Of course," Christina returned, disbelieving that Marlene would even ask.

"Guys," Tori interrupted them. "Will you please stop talking about my sex life?"

"Tori, you have to have a sex life for us to be able to discuss it," Marlene retorted, her expression serious.

"I have a sex life," Tori said indignantly.

"Anything you do by yourself and/or requires batteries does not count," Christina giggled.

Tori huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest and sank back against the chair back.

Their attention was drawn from their conversation to the large bannister, Tris standing at the top of it.

"Well, look out boys, because the babes are about to hit the clubs," Tris smiled, as she sauntered down the grand staircase into the foyer.

"At last," Christina griped, pointedly looking at her watch, ignoring the disgruntled look still plastered on Tori's face. Christina glanced down at her skin-tight black pants, brushing at a fleck of fluff that had settled on the material. They hugged her legs to perfection, all the way to her ankles. She'd paired these with a deep purple crop, alter neck top, the color so deep it almost looked black. A pair of spiked black heels and a leather clutch finished her outfit. She looked hot and she knew it.

"Oh, pipe down, Chris," Tris retorted, pulling slightly on the hem of her short outfit. Her tiny, green dress shimmered as she moved, its thin spaghetti straps laying gracefully over her shoulders and attached to the material that dipped extremely low on her back, falling in waves just above her bottom and the hem falling few inches below what would be considered indecent. A pair of high green pumps with a glittering heel finished the outfit. She wore her hair up in an untidy mass of curls which only made her seem more alluring, a glittering rose secured within the curls. Tris never carried a purse out with her. She never needed the cash because the drinks were always freely given, plus she was very rarely on her own, so someone was bound to have a cell phone or money if she needed it.

"I thought Lynn was gonna join us," Tris said as joined them.

"She has a date," Marlene informed them with a glint in her eye. "But she said she might meet up with us later."

Tris nodded. "Are we ready?" she asked the group with a wide grin.

"For Christ's sake, Tris. We've been ready for the last hour. We've been waiting for your sorry ass," Marlene chimed in. She looked as glamorous as always in a maroon gauze-y shirt which seemed to gleam in the light and a pair of black leather pants with killer boots. She wore her blonde hair in an elegant upswept style.

"Hey, you can't blame me. It's all Four's fault," Tris huffed.

"How is it Four's fault?" Tori asked. She was wearing a sparkling dark blue tube top which emphasized her tiny waist and a pair of charcoal gray pants that tapered tightly to her ankles. Silver strap heels and a plain gray purse completed her outfit.

"He didn't like my original outfit. Tore it right off me," Tris smirked with a twinkle in her eye as she turned and headed for the door.

Tori rolled her eyes as she followed her, Christina and Marlene falling in behind them both, linking arms and giggling quietly.

…

Four wandered through the house by himself. He was still undecided whether to give up his apartment and move permanently into the house or to keep his place so he had somewhere to retreat to if he needed it.

He did feel the need to return home to collect some of his belongings, there were definitely some of his personal possessions he would like to have with him if he was going to stay. Though clothes seemed to be materializing in the ' _his'_ section of Tris's huge his and hers walk-in closet. Mind you, some of that space was already taken by Tris's garments. He had never known a person to have so many outfits. And that didn't count the three drawers of underwear or the complete wall of double shelving that housed her shoe collection.

He walked through to one of the many living areas to find Zeke, Caleb, Al, and Will lounging on the leather sofas, beers in their hands and watching a re-run of some football game on the huge, wall-mounted TV.

He paused cautiously at the door, then figured – _what the hell?_ – and walked into the room.

"Four," Zeke called, his voice open and friendly.

"You wanna beer?" Will offered. Four nodded, reaching for one of the bottles that stood on the table.

As he sank into the luxurious sofa, he twisted the cap off and tossed it back in the direction of the drinks.

"How have your first week been?" Will asked.

Four shifted his eyes from Caleb, who was smirking, to Zeke, who seemed genuinely interested in his answer.

Four took a drink before he answered. "It's been different."

"Yeah, I can imagine," Will chuckled. "It must seem extreme to you!"

"Yeah, and the rest," Four returned with half a smile.

"So you all live here?" he queried. He knew Caleb and Al were permanent residents, but he was not sure about the other two.

"Yeah," Will answered for them.

"You can live in the house if you want," Caleb provided. "But you are asked not to bring dates back unless you are in a committed relationship. Though I guess that won't be a problem with you, seeing as she lives here, too. But FYI, in case that doesn't last, the bosses don't expect you live a celibate life. There are a number of downtown apartments that can be used if you don't want to keep an apartment. It's like living in one big frat house. It's fun."

"Though if it's a messy break-up," Al said with a smile, "you might want to move somewhere else. Tris can be hard to live with after a falling out."

"Talking from experience?" Four asked.

"Ha," Will laughed out loud. "He wishes."

Four smirked at him, then turned his head back to Caleb. "Has she had many messy break-ups then?"

Caleb took a sip from his beer. "That's something to discuss with her, not me."

Four nodded as another guy walked into the room. He was fairly tall with dark hair and tanned skin, the sort of guy who never had a problem finding someone to keep him warm on a cold night.

"Speaking of," Al muttered low and Four swung his eyes suspiciously toward the newcomer.

"Beers boys?" the man questioned cheerfully, his accented voice ringing melodically and his hands held behind his back. "You disappoint me."

"What do you have there, Vladimir?" Caleb asked with a knowing smirk.

Vladimir returned his grin as he produced a tall bottle of vodka and a hand that held a shot glass on each finger. "Ah, mother's milk."

He placed the four shot glasses on the table. "I seem to have lost my drinking partner," he said, shooting a glare at Four, "so you shit-heads will have to take her place."

Four leaned over to Zeke. "I take it his usual drinking partner is Tris?"

Zeke nodded as Caleb added. "She's the only one who can drink this guy under the table."

"Tris!" Four exclaimed, liquid spurting from his mouth in astonishment. Tris was tiny, and he highly doubted she could hold her liquor, never mind outdrink a Russian national.

"I swear Tris was a Russian in a previous life," Vladimir informed him, opening the bottle and filling the glasses with the clear liquid. "This is her favorite," he added, placing the bottle carefully on the table.

"Only four glasses, Vlad," Zeke observed. "Who's gonna sit this round out?"

"Not to worry, Ezekiel," Vladimir replied with a glint in his eye as he walked over to a cabinet, opened the bottom drawer and pulled out two more glasses. "Tris's secret," he added conspiratorially.

He moved quickly back to the low table and quickly poured into the extra glasses. He picked one up and held it in the air. The others looked at each other, then cautiously followed his lead. "Na zdarov'e," he said simply, then swallowed the liquid.

"Cheers," Caleb grinned and slung the liquid down his throat, coughing as the vodka burnt his esophagus.

Zeke, Billy, and Will all looked skeptically at Caleb but quickly followed suit. A chorus of hisses and profanity filled the room.

Four was the only one left who hadn't drank from his glass.

"Pff, this one will not last long with Tris," Vladimir laughed, his head nodding to Four.

"Nah," Caleb agreed. "She'll soon tire of his body, then it will be cold for Four all alone in his bed."

Four brought the glass to his lips and quickly tipped it before he changed his mind. As soon as the liquid hit his throat, it burned, and he forced himself to swallow.

"Shit," he breathed out eventually with a cough as the others laughed out at him. "And Tris drinks this often?"

"It's tradition. Whenever I come back from the Motherland, I bring her the best vodka. We drink together to forget our woes."

"Vlad, they have not created the drink to make us forget our woes, but when they do, I'm sure I will be first in line to sample it," Caleb responded, slapping him on the back.

"Does everyone in this place have a story?" Four asked, discreetly wiping the water that seemed to be leaking from his eyes. _Damn, that's strong,_ he thought.

The others looked at each other cautiously. This man was part of their group now, and it was said, a little knowledge goes a long way.

"My parents were high-profile lawyers," Zeke started, his voice low and strained. "Uriah and I grew up in Las Vegas, which was where our parents had their firm. They were used to dealing with _undesirables,_ shall we say? I was 13, and Uriah was 11 when they were killed."

Four looked nervously at Caleb, who just nodded to him, silently telling him he needed to know this, and he should listen as the other man recounted his story.

"They were killed while out having dinner."

"Hey, Zeke," Four interrupted him, not wanting him to share anything that he felt uncomfortable with.

Zeke shook his head and continued. "We went to live with our grandparents. I joined the Army straight from high school, but not before I looked into my parent's murder. They were killed by a man called Karl Ellison, a contract from the mob boss Vincent D'Angelo."

Four nodded at the name. Even in the CPD, Vincent D'Angelo was well known for his extravagant lifestyle and his violent dealings with the underbelly of Las Vegas.

"I completed one tour of duty with the Army before the Dauntless approached me. My parents had given the Dauntless legal representation in the past so I had heard of the name Prior from them. Dauntless pulled some strings, and I was released from the Army with an honorable discharge. I have been here since then. My only stipulation was that my brother came with me and it was after we'd been here for a couple of months when we found out he was Divergent. He deserved to be here more than I did."

Four was bewildered. Not from Zeke's story; it seemed he would hear a lot of backstories like this one during his time here, but by the fact that Dauntless could arrange an honorable discharge for someone so young, he couldn't have been in the Army long.

"How long have you been a part of this organization?" Four asked him, hardly noticing that Vladimir had refilled the glasses, and the others had already drunk theirs.

"Five years," Zeke replied simply before swallowing his shot.

Four automatically drank the contents of his glass, too. The liquid was now warming his insides instead of burning.

"And do you still have your bullet?" Four inquired, knowing that Vincent D'Angelo was still alive.

"That opportunity hasn't presented itself yet, but I can wait. I am a patient man," Zeke answered with a slow smile.

Four nodded, silently wondering about the bullet he would make. Who would that be for?

The silence in the room was broken when Uriah entered. "You do realize the girls are out there, let loose on the city without anyone to rein them in?" he asked the room.

"Uriah, calm down," Caleb laughed. "You know those girls can take care of themselves."

"Caleb," he said exasperated, then he turned to Four and said again in the same tone, "Four."

When he had their attention, he continued. "Just to let you know, Tris is the chief protagonist in this outing of theirs, and when they left, whew, they were dressed to kill."

"I trust Tris," Four stated, assuming Uriah was indicating that Tris was on the make.

"That's not the problem," he returned

"What is the problem then?" Four asked.

Caleb mumbled standing from the couch. "Tris can get herself into a shitload of trouble in a paper bag."

"Yeah," Will chirped up, standing quickly then stumbling slightly, presumably from the alcohol. "Time to hit the clubs and look for the babes."

"Seriously?" Four questioned as he watched Will and Vladimir head out of the room, discussing appropriate shirts for the night. "We're seriously gonna go and spy on them?"

Al moved closer to Four. "They are," he said pointing to the door, "and did you know that Vladimir and Tris were once close, very close, if you understand me? Like, as close as two people can get - in the biblical sense."

"Yes, Al," Four growled out from between his teeth.

"When did we get on biblical terrain?" Caleb asked, scratching his head in confusion but refusing to admit that the alcohol had affected him a little.

Four stood quickly, then wished he hadn't as the room spun before his eyes. He held his head for a second, willing the motion to stop. "So, those who are going should meet at the door in 20." And he rushed from the room to see what clothes he could find in Tris's closet suitable for a night out on the town.

Four was the last to enter the club, and the way the beat from the music thumped through him, he wouldn't be surprised if his eardrums were perforated by the time they left. It was the same club where he had first seen Tris just over a week ago, the day his life had changed forever.

He followed the others as they headed straight to the bar and grunted a little when Caleb pushed back through them to grabbed him by the arm and move him closer to the bar.

"Bud," Caleb called to the bartender, and when the man in question turned to him, he continued. "This is Four. He's the newest member of Dauntless."

Four looked at the man Caleb was introducing him to. He was of a medium height with arms covered in intricate tattoo designs and a neatly trimmed goatee that matched his short, ash brown hair. He had a piercing through his right eyebrow and several in each earlobe. He was also chewing on a small red cocktail stirrer which he moved from side to side of his mouth as he spoke.

Bud nodded in acknowledgement and leaned over a little. "Are you guys on the clock tonight?"

"No," Caleb replied for them all. He turned his head and looked into the depths of the club. "Is she here?" he asked him over his shoulder.

Bud nodded, a slow grin spreading on his face. "They have taken over one of the balcony booths."

Caleb looked up and spotted Tori leaning over the glass banister, watching the dance floor. Four looked up, too, and, seeing Tori. he swung his eyes down, following her line of sight to find Tris dancing with Christina and a group of unknown males in the middle of the dance floor.

"Get the beers in, Caleb," Zeke said quickly as he, too, observed Tori up on the balcony, then he set off, heading for the stairs.

Uriah slapped Al and Will on their shoulders. "Come on, guys. The babes won't come a running if they don't get to see the goods." And the three headed out to the dance floor.

Caleb turned back to Bud. "Seven beers then?" he said with a smile.

"No, Bud." Vladimir stopped him. "I will take the vodka."

"Haven't seen you around for a while, Ruskie," Bud said goodheartedly before asking with a knowing smirk. "Has she been keeping you tied to the bed?"

"Bud, did I mention that Four here also works for the CPD?" Caleb said with a glint in his eye.

"And?" Bud asked as he filled a couple of shot glass for Vladimir.

"And," Caleb drew out the word, "he has also taken on the often arduous task of dating my sister."

Bud almost swallowed his straw. "I….well...I…didn't…" the bartender stammered out.

Vladimir laughed at his uneasiness as he slapped a hand on Four's back. "Ah, Béatrice was just too much for me. She is now under the wing of her newest …. How do you say… conquest?"

Four smirked at Vladimir, the guy wasn't so bad, though he wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that he actually liked one of Tris's former boyfriends, especially since they obviously saw each other every day. He vaguely wondered what it was that broke the two up.

"Ah," Vladimir commented, as if reading his thoughts, "Maybe she will tell you. One day."

Four did a double take of the handsome Russian as he swallowed his second shot and then headed out onto the dance floor.

"No, he doesn't read minds," Caleb informed him as they watched Vladimir retreating figure. "He's just very good at reading expressions."

Bud placed a tray laden with beer bottles and a few cocktails, obviously for the girls, in front of them. "You want me to send them up to the table?" he asked the two men in front of him.

"Yeah and add double shots for everyone," Caleb replied.

"You want to start your own tab?"

"Nah. Put it on Tris's," he grinned back.

Bud nodded then indicated to one of the waitress to take the tray as he set another one up with several shot glasses.

"How bad do you want to find her now?" Caleb asked Four with a smirk.

"Tris is a grown woman," Four answered as he picked up one of the longnecks and took a swig from it. "She can do whatever she pleases."

"Even if she's doing _whatever she pleases_ with an old bedmate?" Caleb continued, purposely taunting the other man.

Four caught a flash of shimmering green and instinctively knew it was Tris. She turned almost as soon as he had seen her, and their eyes found each other's just like they had a week ago.

Four was moving before he even knew it, handing the bottle absentmindedly to Caleb, and he grinned as he saw her moving away from Vladimir and toward him at exactly the same time. They met in the middle of the dance floor, their lips reaching for their counterparts before anything else.

Tris held onto Four like he was her lifeline, and Four clung equally as hard to her. When they pulled apart, Tris moved her lips to his ear.

She sucked once on his lobe and then whispered, "What took you so long, Bear?"

Four smiled at her use of a nickname she's given him after their hug beside the lake the night before. He liked it.

He pulled back so she could see his smirk as he answered her. "Uriah couldn't decide what to wear."

It was a good thing they were so close, otherwise his words would have been lost, drowned in the pumping dance tune that seemed to beat from the walls.

"You like my dress?" she asked him seductively.

"Love it," he replied, though he had hardly glanced at it, and then he quickly claimed her lips again, just in case anyone around them didn't see that she was his.

Up on the balcony, two figures looked down and smiled at the two agents making out in the middle of the dance floor.

"They are so crazy, aren't they?" Zeke said to the slim girl beside him.

"Yeah. Perfect for each other," Tori agreed.

"So, you wanna dance?" he asked her nervously.

"I don't know, Zeke," Tori answered coyly. "I mean, you may just want to dance with me until something better comes along. I'm not that kind of girl, ya know?"

"Who said that?" Zeke quizzed her.

"What? That I'm not that kind of girl?"

"No, that I only want to dance with you until something better comes along?"

He watched as her eyes shifted a little, as though she had been caught doing something she shouldn't have.

"Tori," he continued gently. "You know that's not true."

"Do I, Zeke?" she said with frustration. "We've been skirting around this whole dating thing for months now, and I'm still no clearer about what's happening between us than I was at the beginning."

"Tori, you know that I have trouble opening up, that I have..."

"Issues. Yes, I know that. And you know you're not the only one. But what if, Zeke? What if you're so worried, so scared to take that next step that it passes you by? That I pass you by? If knowing Tris has taught me anything, it's that you have to go after what you want."

She sighed and turned back to the railing of the balcony, her eyes unconsciously drifting back down to Tris and Four. They were now sort of _dancing_. Tori couldn't think of a more polite way to explain what they were doing.

"Look at them, Zeke. They can't keep their hands off each other, and why is that? It's because they want to live their lives to the fullest. Tris was so close to death when she was 15, so close that I truly marvel at the fact that she's still with us today. In fact, if her uncle hadn't insisted of removing her from the hospital and moving her into a unit, she would never have survived. And several times after that, she should have died, but she didn't. She held on. And why?"

Zeke grinned at her. "Revenge."

"Apart from that. You know what happened to her, what that monster did to her, but look at her, look, Zeke," and she waited until he had turned and looked down on the girl. "Does she look like she never wants to experience life, to experience love?"

"Tris's story is completely different from mine," he said softly.

"I know that. Zeke, I'm sorry. I'm sorry the girl you loved killed your baby, but not every girl is like that."

Zeke looked at her. Her doe eyes contradicting the strength of character she had.

He moved closer to her, his hand moving seemingly by itself until he held her face in his hand.

"I'm sorry, Tori. That's all I can say." He smiled at her, his best innocent little boy smile. "Come dance with me?"

Tori grinned back. She'd said her piece, laid her cards out, so to speak. "Okay."

…

Na zdarov'e = For Health.

…


	12. Chapter 12

Happy Wednesday to you all. Hope you are having a good day.

As always, welcome to new readers! Thanks to everyone reading this story and thanks for your alerts, favorites, and follows, both to me and the story. Each time I get a notification it makes me super happy to know there are people enjoying my musings.

A lot of reviews mentioned how you guys are enjoying my coupling of Zeke and Tori. I'm super glad you guys like that, it was a little daunting (yes, pun intended) because I haven't read a fic with them together, and I do like to be a little different in some of my pairings.

This chapter is a continuation from the last so... enjoy.

Note: translations at end of chapter.

* * *

Chapter 12

When Will left the guys at the bar, he found Christina pretty easily among the heaving bodies on the dance floor. The sparkling of Tris's dress caught the eye of everyone as Tris danced with Christina. He had to admit, the two looked pretty good tonight, the creamy alabaster skin of Tris and the shimmering dark honey of Christina's drew the eye, and he was sure the way they were dancing together, it was fulfilling many of the surrounding males fantasies. He smiled to Uriah as he disappeared off to his right, his eye on a tall brunette.

He moved closer to the girls when he noticed Vladimir step onto the dance floor, his eyes scanning quickly over to Four to gauge his reaction. Four was watching every step Vladimir was taking but showing no obvious signs of jealousy.

Vladimir twisted his arm around Tris's waist, sliding up behind the slim girl and moving his body flush against hers. Will watched as Tris smiled at Vladimir over her shoulder, moving back into his arms and away from Christina. Will took that as his cue and was instantly in front of the dark beauty and lifting her arms to wrap them around his shoulders.

Christina looked up at him and grinned.

"Didn't want you to dance alone," Will said by way of explanation, his lips close to her ear so he could be heard above the music.

"I don't think it would have been long before I had a new partner," she responded, leaning into him.

Christina turned her head to watch Tris and Vladimir dance together. "How long do you think it will be before Four intervenes?" she asked him, turning back to him.

Will just smirked at her and tipped his head back in the direction of their colleagues. Christina looked back over her shoulder to see Four and Tris kissing passionately in the middle of the dance area, Vladimir moving silently off to the side with a grin on his face.

She leaned back into Will, and they moved slowly to the quick beat of the music, finding their own rhythm. She wasn't sure where their relationship was going, but they had been sort of dating for almost three months now. The Dauntless did not approve of intimate relationships between the agents, but as they weren't partners in the field, their relationship seemed to have been accepted.

Will wrapped his arms tightly around Christina. He knew she flirted with the other guys - Tris did it, too - but he knew he and Christina had something special between them.

"Let's go and sit down," Will suggested after a few more minutes.

"Okay," Christina agreed, and she let herself be led from the dance floor and over to a row of bar stools against the far wall. As they moved, Will signaled to a member of the wait staff, who just nodded at his look and retreated to fetch their drinks.

"So, how has your day been?" Will asked her politely.

"Oh, are we making small talk now?" Christina returned with a laugh.

"Well, I thought it would be better than just dragging you from the dance floor and into a darkened corner!"

"Ever the gentleman, Will."

Will looked at her and smirked. "Wanna go and find a dark corner?"

Christina's eyes sparkled up to him. "I thought you'd never ask." And she let herself be lead away by Will, smiling sweetly to the waitress as she turned up with their drinks.

…

Four climbed the stairs to the balcony, watching Tris in front of him. He smiled at the view of her ass sashaying before him and the glorious length of thigh that showed below her ridiculously short dress, revealing more and more each time she lifted her foot onto the next step.

They joined Marlene, Vladimir, Uriah, and Al in a large semi-circle booth. Al seemed to be grumbling to himself as he knocked back another shot.

"What's wrong with Al?" Tris laughed as she flopped onto the plush velvet seating.

"Bemoaning the loss of his love," Marlene grinned back to Tris, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Shit, Al," Tris moaned. "Get over it all ready. Find someone new to latch onto."

"He has it bad, Béatrice," Vladimir added with a smile to her.

"Oh please, Dimi," she smirked back. "He only wants the unattainable. He wouldn't know what to do with me if he had me."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," Al growled out to them.

"Then grow a pair and find someone else to obsess over," Tris told him straight.

Al looked intently at her, and when she raised her eyebrow, he turned away, grabbing a beer bottle from the table.

"Do I need to kick his ass?" Four asked her quietly.

"No, Four. Just leave it."

"How is the training coming along, Four?" Uriah asked him as he handed them each a shot glass of clear liquid.

"I don't know?" he answered before turning to Tris. "How is my training coming?"

Tris quickly swallowed her vodka, smiling as the liquid glided down her throat. "You're doing just fine, Four. You moved that bullet today. Now we just have to work from there."

"Any of my special skills needed, Tris?" Vladimir asked with a grin.

"I don't know, Dimi. I haven't decided yet?"

"How come it's your call?" Four asked as Tori and Zeke joined them. Tris caught the secretive smile on Tori's face and returned it with one of her own, her brow lifting in question.

Tori rolled her eyes at Tris and sat next to Zeke at the end of the booth, elegantly crossing her legs.

"Tris?" Four probed when she didn't answer him.

"Sorry. It's my call because I say when you're ready," she said simply.

"Ready for what?"

"For active duty."

Four accepted that. With her family being so involved with The Dauntless and her abilities being as great as they were, he could respect that.

"So, how come I'm always training with Zeke, Uriah, and Caleb? Why not Will or Al?" he questioned her, grateful that the noise level was lower up here in the balcony so they could actually have a conversation.

Tris looked at Zeke and then back at Four. "Because Zeke is going to be your partner. You have to be able to know each other, trust each other, so you are learning to fight with him and to work with him."

Four looked over at Zeke to see him smiling back. "I have to say, Four," Zeke said. "I'm pretty impressed with your abilities so far. For someone with no knowledge they are Divergent, you have learned pretty quickly."

Four looked back to Tris, not wanting to remember why he needed to access his abilities so quickly.

He shifted his eyes down and caught the tattoo etched onto the side of Tori's right ankle. He had seen it somewhere before and leaned forward to take a better look. A black circle with a blazing flame of skin within it.

"What?" Tori asked him, quickly looking down on the floor.

Four looked back up to her and then turned to Tris, remembering where he had seen the design. "She has the same tattoo as you do."

Tori looked at her ankle and laughed.

"Yeah, we all have it," Tris said with a smile. "Every member of Dauntless has the same symbol."

"You all have one?" he asked the people around the table.

They all smiled and nodded. Zeke turned in his seat and rolled up the short sleeve of his t-shirt to reveal his tattoo. Uriah turned completely in his seat and showed his at the base of his neck. Marlene stood and turned on the spot, carefully lifting her shirt hem slightly to reveal her tattoo located on her lower back.

"Can't show you mine, unless the ladies want me to strip," Al said with a slight slur.

"Al's is in the center of his back," Tori informed him.

"Mine is on my inner arm," Vlad provided.

Four looked at these people with an ever-growing respect. They all had something terrible happen to them in their past, he knew that much even if he didn't know any personal details beyond what Zeke had disclosed to him earlier. But they had survived and made a new family, and this tattoo, it bonded them even more, like a family name would. Only it was much more personal, and no matter where the placement was, it was intimate.

"Why flames?" he said softly to Tris.

"The Company selected it as its symbol generations ago," she explained. "Flames because fire burns wildly, but it can be controlled if you know what you're doing."

"Fire is fearless. The Dauntless are fearless," Zeke added, having heard their low conversation.

Four leaned a little closer to her and whispered low. "How come yours is in such an intimate area, and who did it?"

At that moment, Bud brought up another tray loaded with alcohol. He hadn't bothered pouring the vodka; he just brought the bottle over to them.

"Bud," Vladimir groaned. "I must have a serious talk to you about your supplier. I bet I could do you a better deal and for better vodka."

Four again was drawn to the intricate ink designs on his arms, his eyes suddenly widening in realization.

"Bud did them?" he asked looking up at the lanky man.

"Yes, Four. Bud did all of our tats. Just like he'll do yours when you have completed your training," Will grinned

"It's tradition, Four," Tori added with a grin over the table.

"Yeah, and if you make a fuss about not wanting it, they don't care," Tris huffed.

"You didn't want the tattoo?"

"No! I have enough…," she paused, searched for the right word. She hated the word scar, to her it represented weakness. A scarier time. A time she would prefer to never think about again. "Blemishes, shall we say? I didn't want to add to them."

"And the fact she hates needles played absolutely no aspect of her refusal to sit quietly," Zeke added with a laugh.

"Then how?"

"Those bastards got me drunk and practically strapped me into the chair," she said shooting a death glare to Zeke, Vladimir, and Uriah.

"Took almost three bottles of the absolute best vodka," Vladimir said, almost in pride

"And half a bottle of Absinthe," Bud added.

"Shit, Tris, do you like have an alcohol sponge or something hidden in your body?" Four asked in awe.

Tris laughed out at that. "I don't think there is such a thing."

She turned in question to Tori.

"Not that I've heard of," Tori confirmed, also laughing.

"So why there?" Four asked her again.

"I was drunk, Four. It seemed as good a place as any."

Four nodded, not wanting to think the bartender may have seen more of his girlfriend than he would like.

Tris took the shot glass Vladimir had refilled and swallowed the liquid in a flash.

"Come on, Four. Come and dance with me," Tris said, tugging on the sleeve of his button down shirt, her hand stroking the material distractedly.

She smiled as the silk of the shirt slipped easily against her fingers. She was glad he had chosen this shirt tonight, the deep green pinstripe that ran through the dark gray bulk of the shirt matched well with the emerald green of her dress. She silently wondered if Four would blow a gasket or whatever if he knew how much she had spent on the shirt.

"I'm not really a dancer, Tris."

"Please, Four," she repeated, her lips automatically pulling into a pout.

"Ah," he smiled to her. "I wondered how long it would be before that look made an appearance."

"Well, come and dance with me," she asked again, over-exaggerating her pout.

"I'll dance with you, Tris," Al slurred from the other side of the booth.

"Not in that state, you won't," Tris huffed at him and turned back to Four.

"Come on, Four," she pleaded, then she added with a twinkle in her eye. "Don't make me dance with Dimi."

"Xotite potancevat, Malinkaya?" Vladimir asked her with a smile, knowing full-well she was using him to force Four dance with her.

"Thanks, Dimi. I was hoping to dance with this big lug but I guess not," Tris replied with a deep, exaggerated sigh. Then she leaned over the plush booth seating and slid her long, delicate fingers into Vladimir's waiting palm.

"Okay," Four said, standing quickly and removed Tris's hand from the Russian's. "I'll dance with you, Blondie."

Tris smirked at Vladimir and blew him a kiss as Four led her back down the stairs.

…

Four wrapped his arms around Tris as she moved sensually to the low beat of the song playing so loudly he was sure he'd have blood running from his ears before long. He felt awkward beside her, unable to move as she did. She danced as though she was liquid and could flow in whichever direction she wanted.

"I didn't realize you spoke Russian?" he asked, his lips grazing her ear.

"Dimi taught me," she replied simply with a shrug of her delicate shoulders.

"What did he teach you?" he asked, silently berated himself for asking.

"Well, I can say fuck in several languages," she answered, her eyes dancing with mischief.

"Why does that not surprise me," Four replied dryly.

"Potzeluy menya," Tris said with a smile.

"What does that mean?" Four asked, trying to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

Tris answered him by wrapping her hand around his neck and pulling his face toward hers. He smiled against her lips, and she took the opportunity to sweep her tongue along his. Four willing opened his mouth at her silent request and let her take what she wanted, not realizing they were now both moving as one to the music, that her body had taken possession of his, their kiss as slow and sensual as the song playing.

When she finally moved her lips from his, Four struggled to catch his breath, and Tris laid her head against his chest.

"Ty nuzhen mne," she whispered, and surprisingly he heard her, though he didn't understand what she had said.

"I don't understand, Tris," he said gently, his fingers gently caressing her back, and he felt her sigh in appreciation of his touch.

She tipped her face back up to his and rose up onto her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "Ebats menya."

Four turned his head to look at her and noting the glint of mischief in her eyes he asked, "Is that something good?"

"Fuck me," she smiled.

"Right now?" he asked, his grin matching hers.

Tris nodded, catching her bottom lip with her teeth as she pressed herself closer to him.

Four looked around the dance floor and then back to the erotic creature in his arms.

"Right here?" he clarified.

"Well, not right here. Too many people around," she laughed.

Four lifted his hand to her cheek, and he kissed her again, his actions telling her all she needed to know.

"Ebats menya, Four," she whispered again.

"I think I love the Russian language," he laughed.

Tris took him by the hand and led him away from the dance floor, back over to the bar. She moved to the left side of the bar, where the top swung down to close off the area behind for staff only.

She snaked her hand under the countertop, feeling her way rather than looking. When she couldn't find what she was searching for, she looked accusingly at Bud behind the bar.

He grinned to her as he made his way closer to the couple.

"Had to move your secret hiding place, too many people saw you do that." He then turned and reached behind the vast array for bottles that adorned the back of the bar area. He stretched his hand back to hers and brought the shining keys into her open palm with a grin.

"Don't break anything in there," he said sternly to her, to which Tris raised one immaculate eyebrow.

"And don't give me that innocent _it wasn't me_ look, Tris," Bud laughed.

Tris smiled to him and said, "Vaffanculo." Her Italian was a little rusty but she was sure she got her point across.

"Hey, and don't you cuss at me in some other language either," Bud responded.

Tris closed her long fingers around the keys in her hand and blew a kiss to Bud before turning and, still holding onto Four's hand, walked off in the direction of the double doors that led through to offices, storage rooms and her own little hideaway.

…

Caleb finally made his way up onto the balcony area to see everyone had gathered together. Everyone except his sister and Four, that was.

Christina was looking a little disheveled, and Will had tale-tell lipstick marks across his neck. She was also looking a little too intoxicated, with Al and Will sharing her status. Though the three of them were still passing around half a bottle of tequila.

Tori and Zeke were in a huddle by the side of the booth, and Caleb did not miss the casually touches between the two that were obviously an invitation for more.

Marlene and Vladimir were having what looked like a serious discussion: Vodka versus tequila, though Marlene may also have had one shot too many, and Caleb wondered if Vlad was going to get lucky with the blonde, though with the exception of his sister, Vladimir rarely messed with the women in the house.

He grumbled to himself, thinking that everyone in this group was sex-crazed, but then he had the grace to admit he was only jealous.

He had met a leggy, golden-brown haired temptress who he had plied with alcohol, only to be shot down when he had suggested they find somewhere more private to _talk._

So he found himself with the rest of the group in their vantage point on the balcony, looking down on the rest of the club, people watching.

He could hear the others talking behind him, and it seemed that the major topic for discussion was his sister.

"Don't you think it's a little soon for her to become so involved with another man?" Al questioned the group.

"Wait," Christina interrupted him by holding her hand up. "Since when has Tris _really_ become involved with a man? They are all just toys, objects for her to use when she feels the need."

Vladimir at that moment leaned forward to replace Marlene's shot class on the table and Christina swung her eyes to him, suddenly remembering he was there. "Of course, it was different with you," she back-pedaled quickly, holding her head as the room spun a little.

"Don't worry about hurting my feelings, Christina. I knew exactly what I was getting into with Tris," Vladimir told her with a wistful smile. "She is a difficult person to tame."

"And do you think Four could do that?" Tori asked. She so desperately wanted Tris to find that one special person who could help her overcome everything she had been through, as well as find happiness and completion. She knew Tris used her sexuality to get what she wanted from her partners, but she never surrendered herself to them. She never lost herself so completely that she put their needs above those of her own. Tori understood why she held back and why she refused to give up her control, but she didn't think Tris could continue this act for the rest of her life. And Tori seemed to think that Four might be the person who Tris was able to make those first steps with.

"Four, I think, will be the perfect man to help Tris," Vladimir said with a knowing smile to Tori. "He will never give up on her."

"Is that what you did?" Caleb asked, moving closer to group and lifting the bottle of tequila out of Christina's hand, filling a shot glass with the golden liquid. "Did you give up on Tris?"

"Tris is the one who gave up on me, Caleb," Vladimir answered. "She tires too easily with her 'toys'," he added with a smirk to Christina.

"So, when da ya fink she'll give up on macho man?" Al slurred.

"Not in your lifetime," Christina giggled.

"Seriously, Al. Give it up," Zeke hiccupped. "You are making a fool of yourself."

"Yeah, and it's painful to witness," Will added.

"If you had any chance with her, you would have been there already," Uriah concluded, slapping Al goodheartedly on the back.

"It could happen," Al grumbled.

"Keep dreaming, Al," Marlene laughed.

"Where are Tris and Four, anyway?" Zeke queried.

"Do you think they ditched us?" Uriah asked

"Nah, they are off having sex somewhere," Christina answered knowingly.

"How do you know that?"

"Oh please," Christina laughed. "We are in a club. When in a club Tris is in one of three places: On the dance floor, on a bar stool, or on a guy!"

"That's my sister you are talking about!" Caleb stated, refilling his shot glass.

"So? You know that I'm right," she grinned back to him.

Caleb thought about it for a second then agreed with her with a nod of his head and a salute of his glass.

"Hey, guys," Uriah said a little too loudly, standing on wobbly legs, wishing he hadn't tried to keep up with Vladimir's alcohol intake. "I gotta go pee. Will someone lemme out?"

Zeke and Tori grumbled as they moved to let Uriah climb over the seats and make a dash for the stairs.

Tori glanced down to the area below to make sure he made it safely to the first floor, and her eyes were drawn to the other side of the large club to see Four and Tris emerge from the private area.

"Well, there's our mystery," she said to Zeke and indicated with her eyes the couple below.

Tris, sensing someone's eyes on her, looked up and smiled to Tori. She pointed to Four then herself and to the door.

Tori turned back to the group. "It looks like Tris and Four are leaving."

"Party's over, folks," Marlene said, standing. She wobbled slightly at her movement, and Vladimir reached out quickly to steady her.

Marlene smiled her gratitude to him then moved away from the booth. The others all fell in behind her as she led the way down the stairs. Will helping Al negotiate the challenge of the steps, with Christina giggling behind them. "Wasn't Lynn supposed to be meeting us?" she asked no one in particular. "I think she was. Maybe someone should wait for her." She stopped talking when she realized no one was taking notice of her.

"Bud," Tris called over the bar, standing on the rung of a stool so she could be seen. While she waited for him to get closer she turned and draped her arms over Four shoulders, wrapping them around him and moving him back to sit on the stool, her chest pressed against his back and her head resting against his.

Four lifted his hand and gently rubbed her hands where they were clasped against him, his lips moving to brush along her flesh.

"Tris," Bud's voice called and she turned her head slightly to look at him. "You ready you settle your tab?"

"Sure," she said, letting go of Four and turning back to Bud.

"Just to let you know, Caleb has been adding it all night," the bartender told her.

"Fucking typical," Tris grumbled, swinging her eyes to her brother as he neared them by the bar. "You still have my card details in the system?" she asked.

"I think so," Bud smiled.

"Well, I don't have anything on me right now so if not, call my office tomorrow and Riley will clear the tab," she grinned.

"Tris, we've talked about this shit," Bud tried to scold her.

"And I've told you, you can't expect me to carry any money or anything like this," and she indicated to her outfit. She leaned a little closer to him over the bar. "And just remember who signs your checks, bar man," she said with a glint in her eye.

"Get out of here, Boss," he grinned at her.

"Later, Bud," she called before grabbing Four's hand and moving off to join the others waiting by the door.

"I've got a couple of cabs waiting," Zeke told her.

"I'm not riding with horny and hornier there," Christina said, pointing to Four and Tris.

"Oh, behave," Tris smiled.

* * *

Xotite potancevat? = Would you like to dance with me?

Malinkaya = term of endearment – little one.

Potzeluy meny = Kiss me

Ty nuzhen mne = I need you

Vaffanculo = Fuck you.


	13. Chapter 13

Happy Wednesday, guys. Its update time!

I'm running short on time so I'm gonna make this quick: Welcome new readers, thanks to everyone; you know what you've done, and enjoy the next chapter...

* * *

Chapter 13.

The following week was a whirlwind of training sessions for Four with Zeke, Uriah, and Tris, all the time with Max watching over the group, as vigilant as ever.

Four continued his quick learning pace, now easily over-powering Uriah, using his ever-expanding Divergent abilities to his upmost capabilities, though he still had yet to step up and actually hit Tris.

Mason dropped in on a couple of the morning sessions to watch Four's progress and noted, along with Max, the ease and synergy between Tris and Four. He was again surprised with how Tris's abilities had grown and the effortlessness in which she used them. They truly were second nature to her. He left the session with a wave of uneasiness at this development.

When Tris's abilities had begun to advance, The Dauntless had marveled. She was the first woman to ever display the attributes of a Divergent, and even at the age of 16, she had more control over them than any seasoned agent. Mason remembered watching one of her training sessions when she had officially joined them and the feeling of fear that had washed over him had been overwhelming. He truly feared anybody who came up against her.

Four's afternoons in the units were needed less and less and he began working with Zeke on creating his bullet whilst Tris continued her work with The Prior Group. Mason had purposely held Caleb and Tris back from active duty to be able to concentrate on Four's training.

Four was also finding it easier to control the air now, moving the bullet more and more in the right direction. He achieved the process of leaving only one hole on the target sheet but was still struggling to hit the target when it was obscured by a huge slab of meat. He could maneuver the bullet around the meat but haven't yet hit the designated area on the paper behind it.

He continued to live in the house and had visited his apartment to bring some of his belongs over, and they were now integrated with Tris's belongings in what had effectively become their room, his photo of his mother standing proudly next to hers. The fact Tris never questioned why his father was not represented with a framed imaged only solidified his affections for her.

And those feelings grew each day, and he relished the touch of her hands on him, and her body next to his. He instantly knew when she was home each day. No matter where he was in the vast house, something within him seemed to surge with electricity, and he had to seek her out. His new friends would laugh when he would suddenly leave a room, sometimes mid-conversation, knowing where he was going and who he was going to find. He had tried on several occasions to bring up the subject of her parents and the scars that marred her body, but she had an incredible way of distracting him and making his lose all thoughts of questioning her. He knew it was her diversionary tactics, but he couldn't really complain. He was partially interested in the cluster of scars she had on her inner thigh, not believing her story of a bicycle injury.

The marks on her upper body she had explained away with the vague mention of a puppy attack. The ones he had found on her inner thigh had caused a hitch in her breathing. Of course, that could have something to do with what he was doing down there, but she had shuddered at some unknown memory and spun a tale of a bicycle accident. While he didn't believe she was being completely truthful with him, he felt sure she would tell him when she was ready.

He had even learned a little more about some members of the company, hearing their backstories as he continued living and working in the house.

Tori had started talking one afternoon whilst he was in a unit. She had sat beside the tub at first, just chattering about mundane things and then had proceeded to share with him her story.

Tori's parents owned an alien themed diner in Rachel, Nevada along the Extraterrestrial Highway. She had been an honor student in high school and was away at college in San Francisco when her parents and her sister had been murdered during a botched robbery attempt of the café. She also had a brother who had escaped the killings by hiding in an old basement cellar.

Her high intelligence and ease of learning had alerted her to The Dauntless. Gilbert Saunders was a member of Dauntless who traveled the country looking for potential recruits and he was alerted to Tori through an acquaintance on the faculty at Berkeley. When she was recruited, she didn't return to college and was taken under Doc Johanna's wing. George, her brother, didn't want to become a member of the elite group so he now worked at The Prior Group as a PA to Tris.

Doc Johanna molded Tori to take over her job if she ever desired to retire, and Tori earned her medical license a good two years earlier than expected.

Tori had not undergone the vigorous physical training that the agents did, but she had been taught how to shoot a gun and how to handle herself in a fight, as did every member of Dauntless, agent or not. She had made her own bullet, though it sat untouched at the bottom of one of her room drawers. The Dauntless had used its many resources and had apprehended the people responsible for her family's untimely deaths. Each individual was now serving three life sentences for her three lost family members, and they would rot in jail, not being approved for early release.

To this day, the diner in Rachel was managed by The Prior Group, and all proceeds were held in an account for her should she ever wish to leave.

Christina divulged her story another afternoon whilst they had been chatting. Her father was a military man and had died during an accident on base when Christina was 14. Her mother couldn't deal with his death, and six months later, she took her own life. Christina was then taken into the care of the state of California and remained in the foster care system until she was 18. Through a series of misdemeanors, she had come to the attention of Max and was brought into Dauntless as a kind of second chance deal. It was either that or prison. Christina attended a local community college and went to work for The Prior Group in their real estate department. She had begun her training as an agent when she hit 22.

He guessed he would have these conversations with every member there until they each shared their history with him. Strangely, the one he was dreading the most was Tris's.

…

One night, six weeks after he had joined Dauntless, Tris had come to him dressed completely in black. The outfit, a tight black blouse and black pants, accentuated her body to perfection. He knew she was about to go on a mission and was silently happy her partner was her brother. How a guy was supposed to get any work done with her looking so delectable was anyone's guess.

"You need to change," she stated simply to him.

"Why?" he asked, looking down at his dark blue jeans and olive green t-shirt.

"Because you are coming out with me tonight," she answered simply.

"But, Caleb?"

"Bear, just go get changed, or do you need help?" she smiled slyly at him. She had learned over the last few weeks that he secretly loved her pet name for him, though he would protest if others where around and she used it.

"Tris, if you follow me upstairs, we'll never come down again until the morning," he laughed as he headed for the door and the long walk to their room, leaving Tris standing on her own in the middle of one of the many communal living areas.

"You really think he's ready?" Caleb asked from his spot in the room where he had been unintentionally hidden from view.

"Yes," she answered, not at all surprised he was there.

"I don't know, Tris. I think you just want him to be ready."

"He's hit the target several times now, he can beat the shit out of Uriah, and he's finished his bullet. The only thing left is his first mission," she reasoned.

"Yeah, but he still won't hit you," Caleb reminded at her like it was something he needed to be able to do. It wasn't necessarily the ability to hit her, but it was a requirement to be able to hit a woman.

"And we all know why. I was thinking of bringing Christina in to try and help him with that. Or even Lynn. She's pretty aggressive in a fight," Tris mused.

"You shouldn't be trying to make things easier for him. You didn't do that with Al's training."

"And I wasn't actively involved with him, either," Tris retorted.

"You do know Zeke and I will be following you?" Caleb asked, changing the subject before they got into a verbal fight over this. Again.

"Of course. Just make sure you stay back and don't interfere. No matter what, Caleb, you stay out of the picture," she instructed sternly.

"Yeah, we will. Unless your life is in danger, then I will feel obligated to step in and help a little," Caleb grinned, then added, "Maybe."

"Your generosity knows no bounds, Caleb," Tris said dead-pan.

Caleb shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say? It's a gift."

Caleb looked at her seriously for a minute before responding, "You be careful out there, Tris."

"You know me, always the precautious one," she returned glibly.

Caleb snorted at that. "I have this feeling you have no idea what precautious means."

"Then I'll let you buy me a dictionary. Tomorrow."

Caleb nodded his head at her words. This was their thing; something they always did before they embarked on a mission. They made plans to do something the next day, silently acknowledging there would be a tomorrow. They never accepted there might be the slightest risk that one of them would not return.

"Tomorrow," he agreed.

Tris crossed the small space between them and pulled him to her in a hug. This was the first time she had ever embarked upon a mission without her brother, and while she was excited to be working with Four, she dreaded the idea that Caleb would not be there to have her back. He had always been there to protect her, ever since they were the children. The one only time he had not been there was when their parents had died, and she almost followed them. That haunted Caleb almost as much as her all these years later.

"Be careful," he whispered again in her ear.

"You too," she returned just as softly.

Four entered the room to see the siblings hugging tightly and coughed to announce he was there.

When Tris turned to him she grinned at his attire. Black jeans, with a black t-shirt finished with a black sweater. "Much better," she declared.

"So, where are we going?" Four asked her.

Tris moved away from her brother and over to Four, and Caleb was filled with a sense of loss as he watched to two leave the room, dressed identically, as Tris filled him in on the details.

Zeke entered just as they left and looked to Caleb, noting the look on his face.

"They look good together," Zeke acknowledged.

"Yeah," Caleb grumbled. "Too good."

"It was bound to happen, Caleb," Zeke offered sympathetically. "She has to move on with her life. Maybe Tori is right? Maybe Four is the one to help her with that?"

Caleb nodded at his fellow agent's words of wisdom. "So what's going on with you and Tori, anyway?" he asked as he propped himself against the back of the sofa, giving Tris and Four time before they discreetly followed.

Zeke smirked at Caleb. He knew the guy had a thing at one for their doctor, but Tori never showed any interest in him. "I don't know, but I think she could be the one."

Caleb whipped his head a round to Zeke. "The one?"

Zeke nodded.

"What? Is it mating season in here or something? Everyone is hooking up with someone else," Caleb moaned.

"Maybe you should get a clue then, Prior, and do some hooking of your own."

"And tie this body down to just one person? Not gonna happen, Zekie. Can't do that to all those babes out there," Caleb said with bravado.

"Out where, Caleb?" Zeke asked him. "If I'm not mistaken, you and Al were the only ones to NOT hook up with someone the other night."

"So, Marlene did go home with Vladimir?" Caleb asked intrigued.

"I have no idea," Zeke responded. Zeke looked toward the door. "Do you think they have had enough time?"

"Yeah," Caleb answered. "Let's go save their asses."

…

Four and Tris traveled with ease to their destination in one of The Dauntless cars. Four's new glock was securely placed in his worn-in shoulder strap and holster, hidden beneath his lightweight black jacket.

Tris also wore a black blazer to hide her weapon of choice: a custom-made Beretta. And in addition, she had a small Walther PPK concealed in the small of her back.

They chatted calmly throughout the drive into city before pulling into an underground garage to park the car. They headed to the EL so they could traverse the city quickly to get to their destination.

"The target is Daniel Marrison, and he isn't a nice man!" Tris told him in a hushed whisper, studying their surroundings of the train as it rattled on its elevated tracks.

"Why?" Four asked, his face expressionless.

"He finds it highly amusing to torture innocent people for fun," she began after taking a deep breath. "He arranges an _event_ where hunters from across this great country of ours pay him to nominate someone for them to pursue in the name of sport."

"Wait. For them to pursue in the name of sport? Like, hunting them like you would a deer or a duck?" Four sounded confused.

Tris nodded before continuing. "These innocent people are violently killed, butchered, and degraded. He often takes part in these challenges, getting his rocks off with other people's pain." She shuddered at the thought.

"So what happened? How do we know about him?"

She held her finger up to stall him when the train pulled into the station they needed and they exited the transport.

"This last time, somehow, the girl escaped, and the tales she told would give you nightmares for months," she continued as they moved down the steel steps to street level.

Four swallowed the bile that threatened to escape at Tris's words.

He knew the Dauntless would have knowledge of this guys every move, and they knew where he will be at certain times, which is why they were in downtown Chicago on this mild night.

Not too long later, they stood side by side at the opening of a dingy alleyway as Tris instructed Four on what was expected of him while she pulled a black beanie from her back pocket and pulled it over her blonde hair.

"We will only get one window of opportunity here, Four; when he passes the end of this street. He always has the window of the limo down, and there are approximately five seconds to get the shot."

"Okay, Tris, I get it. Don't mess up."

"Yes, Four," she repeated sternly. "Don't mess up."

They stayed in the shadows watching and waiting for the target's car to roll down the street. Tris saw the head lights and nodded to Four, stepping back slightly to let him take point.

Four stepped forward and pulled his weapon from his holster, remembering his training, both from Dauntless and the police academy. As the sleek black car inched closer, Four fidgeted slightly in his stance, doubts creeping into his head. A few seconds later, and the moment was upon him and Four hesitated, gun in hand. This man might have a family: parents, children. People who relied on him every day.

"Four," Tris hissed sharply.

His mind erupted with thoughts of the man's life, imagining his day to day life. Did he have a dog?

"Four!" she said again, harsher.

Four squeezed the trigger a moment too late, and his bullet hit the back end of the window, shattering the glass. The limo suddenly sped up and roared down the street, and a black car came hurtling forward from further down the street.

"Four!" Tris called as she turned and fled down the alley. Four was hot on her tail, following were she led and was astounded when she burst out onto the active street. She headed over to a red Ferrari that was parked nearest to her.

She pulled something small from her back pocket and, looking both ways down the street, stuck it into the lock. Four watched amazed as in a flash she had the door open and with lightning speed was slipping into the passenger seat.

"What ya waiting for?" she rushed out and tipped her head to the driver's seat. He moved quickly, sliding across the hood on his hip in true Hollywood action hero style. In one swift movement, he pulled the driver's door open and practically fell into the seat.

Four looked at her shocked as she reached down and pull a small knife from a sheath against her ankle. She leaned over slightly and jammed it into the ignition port. At her quick nod, Four grabbed the handle, turned the knife, and the Ferrari roared to life. He smashed the gas pedal to the floor with his foot, and the car launched forward as he raced through the gears and ripped out into traffic...only to end up going the wrong way down a narrow, one-way street!

Four now had to weave in and out of cars that were heading right for them, car horns blaring loudly at them, and the drivers expressing their displeasure through a variety of hand gestures and colorful words.

Four saw the object coming toward them before Tris did. "Truck!" he rushed out, his eyes scanning the street for a way to avoid the oncoming vehicle.

"Get out the way," he hissed out, bearing down on the truck, the car weaving as he strained to look either side, trying to judge which route wouldn't result in their instant deaths.

"No!" Tris instructed, her hand reaching out to steady the steering wheel. "Keep straight. Right in front."

Four looked at Tris incredulously, thinking she had lost her mind. His eyes widened when she levered herself up and pulled her upper body through the open passenger window. She leaned dangerously out and pulled her PPK free, her arm extending in front of her. She fired off four shots at the oncoming vehicle. Four expected the windshield to shatter and was bewildered when the front tires exploded instead. The truck veered hard right, where it bounced off a FedEx truck that sent it up and into a violent roll in the air.

"Go!" screamed Tris as she slid back into her seat and Four resisted the urge to close his eyes as he gunned the Ferrari toward the tumbling mass of metal as it flipped forward and over… right over their car!

Tris watched as it flew over them, amazed her idea worked and smiled when finally it smashed down into the street behind them.

Four snapped back to reality as Tris's eyes met his, her face beaming, and he zipped the Ferrari off the one-way street and down a side road.

He pulled the car to a stop then looked over at Tris, stunned.

"Now _that_ was fucking amazing," she beamed, her chameleon eyes a blazing green and gold.

Four settled back in his seat, his heart was thumping so hard he thought it was going to erupt from his chest. He took a few calming breathes, flabbergasted that Tris was so calm and collected after what had just happened. He had been in his fair share of car chases in the past with his job at the CPD, but this seemed a little more intense than normal. When Tris placed her hand upon his leg and squeezed gently, he took her hand in his and eased a little more respectably into traffic.

They headed back to the underground garage where they had left their car, parking a few blocks away just to be sure. Tris grabbed her knife from the ignition before climbing from the car, with Four reluctantly following her. The Ferrari was a sweet ride and so different from his old Buick.

Tris pulled Four away from the car and kissed him zealously. The adrenaline was finally settling within her body and now she just needed to feel his body against hers, preferably hot and sweaty, but she would take what she could at this moment. She eventually pulled away and looked at Four seriously.

"Now I want you to look at me, and tell me something. And I want you to be honest with me."

"What?" Four asked, puzzled at what could possibly be running through her mind right now.

"Does this outfit make me look fat?"

"What?!"

"I thought so. Let's go."

…

They arrived back at the house just before Caleb and Zeke and met them out in the courtyard before the front door.

"What the fuck was that?" Caleb demanded straight away, bearing down on Four with fire burning in his eyes.

"What?" Four asked, unaware the other team had been tailing them.

"You missed. You let the target get away," Caleb bellowed, as he hit out with his arm, pushing at Four's shoulder and making the other man take a step back to regain his balance.

Four swung his eyes to Tris, questioning her silently if she had known they were being followed. Her downcast eyes and uneasy shifting of her feet told him she knew. Four frowned at her, disappointed that she had lied to him, or at least didn't inform him they were being trailed.

He turned back to Caleb. "You know, for those of us who have not been doing this for a lifetime and who have pledged to protect, it's kind of hard to just shoot someone." He narrowed his eyes at Caleb and added with venom, "And never push me again."

"To protect the innocent," Caleb spat out, refusing to back down. "Daniel Marrison was not an innocent. He was a violent man who took pleasure from making others bleed; for making innocent people bleed."

"Caleb," Tris said softly, stepping forward slightly to calm her brother.

Caleb shrugged her attempt to intervene off and took another step toward Four. "You are a liability, Eaton. You think too much. This job isn't about thinking. It's about instinct and reaction. And you obviously don't have either."

"Caleb, that's enough," Tris said sharply.

"No, Tris. It will be enough when I don't have to worry about you ending up dead somewhere."

Tris stepped closer again to Caleb and grabbed his face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. "I'm not going anywhere, Caleb," she said softly. "I'm not planning on dying anytime soon."

Caleb's eyes searched hers as if looking for the answers he so desperately needed. "Then stop putting yourself in danger," he answered with anger.

Tris shrugged as she released Caleb's head. "It's my job, you know that."

"Fuck the job, Tris," he spat out sternly.

Tris raised her eyebrow at him, and he attempted to stare her down, but as usual, Tris won.

Eventually, Tris smiled at him, and he rolled his eyes, knowing she had won, and pulled her into a hug. When they separated, Caleb looked between Four and Tris. "You need to tell him. Tell him what happens when someone misses their target and the implications that has on other lives."

Tris's eyes widened and Caleb felt his heart break when he saw the sheer terror in her darkened orbs. She shook her head slowly, but Caleb nodded his, and Tris looked away from him to Zeke, hoping he would give her a way out.

Zeke also noted Tris's obvious distress at what she knew she would have to do, and he nodded to her, echoing Caleb's determined look, and Tris could imagine him echoing her brother's words, too.

"Tell me what?" Four asked, breaking the three way look.

Caleb kissed Tris on her forehead and stood away from her, giving her a reassuring squeeze of his hands before turning to Zeke.

"Let's go, Zeke. I feel the need for a stiff drink." And then he left Four and Tris without a backward glance.

Zeke moved over to Tris and swept her into a quick hug. "It will be okay," he said against her ear so only she could hear, and when she nodded, he stepped back.

"Four, don't worry about Caleb, he can get a little overprotective at times," Zeke said.

"A little!" Four exclaimed.

Zeke smirked at this, and then followed Caleb into the house.

Tris looked shyly at Four before taking a step closer to him and moving her hand down his arm to take his hand in hers.

"Come on, Four. Let's take a walk."

"What do you need to tell me?" he asked, slightly worried and extremely nervous.

"I need to tell you what happens when an agent misses their targets."

…


	14. Chapter 14

Happy Happy Wednesday, guys! Hope all is well with you wherever you are in the world.

Thanks, as always, to all who are sticking with this story, and welcome to new readers.

A little shout out to guest reviewer GUS : Yes, there will be more lemons!

 **Warning: This chapter may contain triggers.**

The flow of this chapter maybe a little difficult to keep up with so please, if any of you have questions just let me know and I will do my best to let you know my thoughts when I wrote it.

Italic writing is Tris's storytelling, normal font within that section are her thoughts.

This is an epic one, guys. Maybe not in length but in its importance to the story. AND, I believe it what a lot of you guys have been waiting for. Get your minds out the gutter! It's not that kind of chapter.

Anyway, as usual, let me know your thoughts. Enjoy...

* * *

Chapter 14

Tris led Four around the edge of the house and onto a stone path that wound through the impressive landscaping. They passed the building that held the armory and the shooting range and continued in silence. As his eyes adjusted to the dimming light, Four saw the large boulder in the distance. He had come to realize this was Tris's go-to place when she needed time to think or just to be alone, and he instinctively knew that's where they were heading.

Once there, Tris pulled herself up onto the rock, and Four resisted the urge to help her. Instead, he stood beside her legs, bracing his weight against the cool stone.

"Should I be worried?" he asked her with a slight smile once she had settled on the surface of the boulder.

"What makes you ask that?" she returned, her head motionless, and her gaze fixated on the smooth surface of the lake in front of them.

"Well, you said you were gonna tell me what happens when a mission fails. Is this where I get kicked out of Dauntless? Should I be worried about becoming a target myself?"

Tris turned her head to him at his remarks, wondering how true his comments could be. Would her uncle want Four out now that he had failed? Second chances were rarely given in Dauntless, as a failed mission usually led to the deaths of one of their own.

She couldn't stop the swirling sensation that started in her abdomen. It wasn't the good kind of sensation. This was full of fear and uncertainty, and it was making her feel nauseated.

"Four," she started after taking a few deep breaths to calm her rolling stomach. "I have to tell you something, and I need you to just listen. No interruptions, no comments."

"Okay," he answered her, noting the apprehension in her features. He found himself wishing she didn't need to tell him what she so obviously didn't want to disclose.

Tris took another deep breath and turned her head back to the water as she started her story:

 _A few years ago, a teenage girl returned home from a party to find both her parents tied up in the dining room of their palatial house. She immediately rushed to them, desperate to unfasten the tight knots that bound them. She was so stunned and horrified at the scene that had greeted her, she immediately dropped to her knees, her fingers darting to the rope around her mother's ankles, despite for father's frantic looks._

 _She didn't see the man approaching her from behind, and when he grabbed her arms, forcing her to stand, she screamed._

 _The man held her tight to him, her back against his front, and in a swift, smooth movement, a knife was held out before her. The light bounced off the metal, and the girl averted her eyes, her head shifting to the side, and in that short space of time, the blade moved, slicing along the neck of her mother as if through butter._

 _The blood splattered, spraying the girl across her face and upper body with the warm, life-giving liquid. The room was silent except for the harrowing bubbling sound of someone struggling to take their last breath._

She never thought that blood had an odor to it, but it does. A coppery, sharply metallic smell, and as she watched, it flowed freely from her mother's neck. She struggled to swallow down the bile that threatened to spill. The blood on her face was warm and sticky as it rolled downward from where it had landed, and she pursed her lips together in an attempt to stop it from trickling into her mouth, biting back a gag.

" _Now, are we going to have any trouble here?" a dark voice echoed around the large room._

 _The girl shook her head slowly, her eyes moving from her dead mother to her father, his eyes wide and fearful._

 _The knife moved from where her mother's killer held it beside her arm and was instantly held lightly against her neck, the tip of the blade gliding effortlessly, almost tenderly, against her throbbing pulse point; close enough for her to feel it but with no pressure to actually break her skin. His other arm still wrapped around her middle, not relinquishing his tight hold on her._

" _Okay, good," her captor said, his voice smooth and deep, then his tone made a 180 turn to upbeat and cheerful as he added. "Let's have some fun."_

 _The girl was tied into another chair beside the lifeless body of her mother, whose empty eyes stared down onto the dark hardwood and the blood collected around her feet._

 _She struggled against her bonds, and the man laughed at her attempts to free herself,_ _his sharp features crinkling with mirth at her feeble endeavor, before he turned to face her father._

The rope bit into her wrists, burning, stinging, as she pulled at the restraints, refusing to cry in front of this man. She stopped when their intruder advanced on her dad, a glint of excitement on the man's otherwise handsome face.

 _He never said a word as he dragged the knife across the left forearm of her father bound to the chair, leaving behind a thin line of red._

 _More cuts were made, thin long ones, and short deep ones, the tape across her father's mouth muffling any sounds he might have made throughout the process._

" _Stop," the girl cried out, begging on the behalf of her father as she had not been gagged. "Please."_

Their tormentor turned back to her, his striking eyes dancing and his pupils wide as he moved closer to her. Her dad tried to call out to him, making nonsense noises behind his gag, and bouncing in his seat, and making the chair move across the floor. His eyes held fear for his only daughter as the crazed man with the knife advanced upon her.

He walked from the room, and the captives looked at each other, both hoping this was over but knowing it wasn't.

When he returned, he held a small, wet cloth in his hand and moved closer to the girl. She flinched back when he reached out to her and with surprising tenderness; he wiped the blood off her face.

"Beautiful," was all he said, before turning back to the father with a smirk.

 _Soon, the father's arms were criss-crossed with trickling blood lines as his cuts continued to bleed out slowly, and his daughter became frantic as his eyes began to close._

"Daddy," she called out, "Dad!" and sighed when he snapped his eyes open again to look at her. His eyes, so like her own, were dim and lacking in their usual exuberance.

"Please," she whispered.

 _Their captor kept them there, barely alive with varying degrees of cuts across their bodies for another two days. During that first night, he had untied the girl, and she was forced to help move her mother's dead body into another room. She was allowed to wander the room freely, but she was unable to escape, refusing to leave her father who was still tied to his chair. The smell in the room was becoming unbearable; the lingering odor of decay and rot with the ever-present scent of blood was nauseating and suffocating at the same time._

The pain she felt was unbearable as she moved against her will. The sound of his laughter and constant mumbling a soundtrack she knew would haunt her for the rest of her life, no matter how short that life would be. She turned her head away, her eyes tightly close to try and escape what was happening in their normally fun-filled dining room. On opening them again, a glint of light drew her attention, and her eyes landed on his knife which was lying, momentarily, forgotten on the floor, just out of reach. If only her hands were free, knowing the only reason he tied her down while he did this to her was to break her. He was definitely at a disadvantage at this moment, distracted in his sickening pleasure. She shifted her gaze again and it collided with her dad's tortured orbs. Fresh tears began to flow, and in her mind, she wished the knife was closer, that it was implanted in her torturers back as he moved frantically above her. She saw a dim light flash in her father's eyes, and when she moved her own again, she saw the knife flicker in slight movement. She flashed a look back to her father and recognized his surprised gaze. His eyes flashed encouragement to her and again she focused on the knife, concentrating with her desire for it to move. It inched slowly, turning on the spot, and despite her predicament, she smiled.

 _Three more days. That's how long the father hung on, desperate to not leave her alone to the whims of a mad man, but his body gave up, and he died, his blood no longer flowing._

 _Two days later, the man eventually became bored, and after marking her creativity as his, he left her to die._

 _But she didn't. She didn't die._

Four looked horrified when she finished recounting the tale.

"The man who had butchered her family and stripped her of her dignity, leaving her to die in pools of blood, he was sent by a target an agent had failed to eliminate," Tris said, her voice strangely devoid of emotion, a sound Four never expected to hear coming for her.

"It turned out the target had found about he was slated to be taken out by the Dauntless. He contracted the hit as payback, to send a message to the leaders of our organization. The fact that the target hadn't been eliminated started a chain reaction that is still flowing to this day," she continued. This time, there was a waver in her voice, and Four was almost afraid of what he knew he was going to ask.

"This family," he started, then paused, swallowing nervously. "Who were they?"

He knew the answer, but for some reason, he needed her to tell him.

Tris turned her head to him, the first time she had looked to him since she had started with her grizzly tale, and gave a thin smile, telling him without words she had revealed to him her own story.

Tris turned her head to look out across the lake again, pulling her legs up onto the boulder in front of her, hugging her knees to her chest. She looked like a small, lost child, and Four was suddenly aware of how young she actually was. While he understood 23 wasn't exactly considered old, sometimes he thought the people of Dauntless forgot. She was highly respected, held an important position within the organization, was the Vice-President of the family company, and the only female agent who was Divergent. That was lot of pressure on her young shoulders.

He fleetingly thought what her life would have been like if that agent had pulled the trigger and killed his target. His cop mind couldn't help wonder if someone had wanted the family of Andrew Prior eliminated anyway.

"Why did you tell me your scars were made by a puppy?" he asked quietly, wanting to hold her and keep her safe, but unsure if she would welcome his touch at that moment.

"I figured telling you I was butchered by a psychopath might have been a turn off," she quipped with a shrug of one shoulder.

Four was silent as his mind retraced all the scars that covered her delicate body, lingering on the cluster on her thigh.

"Tris, what else happened?" he probed before he could stop himself. "There are some huge gaps in your story."

Tris moved almost without him noticing, and he cursed low at the ease she used her abilities, one minute being next to him on the giant rock, the next standing by the edge of the lake.

He moved slowly over to her, not wanting to startle her, though sincerely doubting he ever could. When he came to a stop beside her, he waited, giving her space but letting her know he was there.

"I don't want to talk about it. Not yet. Can you respect that?" she asked him, her voice almost timid, unsure.

"Of course," Four answered, a little sad she hadn't known he would give her anything she asked for.

He turned his body to hers, tentatively holding out his hand, and he brushed his fingers across hers where they were held tightly against her own body. He was glad she didn't flinch or try to move away, and he worked his hand closer so their fingers were interlaced.

He gave a slight tug, giving her an out if she needed it, but she turned willingly to him, burying her forehead and subsequently hiding her face against his chest as he enveloped her with his arms.

"I'll be here when you're ready," he whispered against her hair, needing her to know he would always be there for her, no matter how hard it would be for her to tell him or for him to hear the full story.

She nodded slightly, finally moving her arms to wrap them around his waist and turning her head again to lay her cheek against him. Four's hand wound into her hair, his fingertips brushing against her scalp, giving her comfort the only way he knew how in that moment.

He wanted to know more, to ask her questions, but this was not the time.

"Come on," he whispered. "Let's turn in for the night."

Hours later and Four tossed in the large bed again. His eyes flickered open, and he gave out an involuntary sigh, his eyes focusing in the darkness on the ceiling.

He heard a low murmur and turned his head to the side to see Tris stir a little in her sleep, her blonde hair half hiding her face, and he moved to sweep it gently to the side. Her features looked tormented, even in sleep, and he hated to think what she was dreaming about.

When they had returned to their room, Tris headed straight for the shower, leaving Four to either follow or lounge on one of the large sofas. Despite the desperate need to follow her, to reassure her things were just fine between them, he decided to give her some space. If she had wanted him there, she would have led him into the cubicle with her. She wasn't exactly shy in letting him know what she wanted.

He picked up the book he'd been reading from the table beside his side of the bed and settled down to read, flicking the music system on and smiling as the relaxing sounds of classical music hit his ears.

Tris's choice in music had been a surprise to him. There was hardly a genre out there she didn't approve of – from greats by Chopin and Rachmaninov to Led Zeppelin, and his favorite, Metallica. It truly astounded him that he could actually give the names of the classical composers along with their music, and that change was all down to Tris.

The knock at the door surprised him, and he looked over to the door leading to the bathroom, his eyes flickering briefly to note the time. She'd been in the shower a half hour now, and he wondered if he should check on her. The repeated knock drew his attention back to the door, and he stood quickly, striding over and opened it to see Jack Kang standing on the other side.

The psychiatrist smiled politely at Four.

"How is she?" he asked straight to the point, and Four was taken aback by the question.

"Look," Jack explained. "Caleb came to see me. I know what happened this evening, and I know what she would have told you."

Four opened the door wider for him and as the other man entered, he said, "She's still in the shower."

"How much did she tell you?" Jack questioned, leaning against one of the dressers.

"About her parent's death," Four answered and watched as Jack nodded. "Do you think she'll tell me the rest?" he asked the psychiatrist.

Jack looked intently at him and Four shifted uncomfortable under his gaze.

"I think she will," he finally answered. "Just don't push her. As you can understand, it's not something she talks about freely, even to me. Sometimes I feel like I'll have more success selling snow to the Eskimos then getting her to talk."

Four gave a snort at that.

Jack nodded to the door that lead through to the bathroom. "How long has she been in there?"

"A half hour," Four answered, scratching his eyebrow with his finger.

"Go and get her," Jack advised. Then he pushed himself off from the dresser, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans. "Let her know I'm available whenever she's ready," he said and then handed over a small medication container. "She'll need these. She'll say she doesn't, but she will. Get her to take them."

"What is it?" Four asked, hesitant to take it from him.

Jack shrugged. "Just something to help her sleep. If past experiences are anything to go by, she won't sleep without them. And when she's tired…"

"Yeah, I know. Tired Tris equals cranky Tris," Four snorted.

"Yeah, and an exceptional member of an elite organization with incredible skills in a cranky mood equals disaster for anybody who happens to walk into her path!"

Four took the offered tablets and moved to place them on her bedside table, as Jack moved to the door.

"And, Four," Jack called out before he left, "if you need to talk, I'm always around."

"Why would I need to talk to you?" Four asked.

Paul looked at him disbelieving. "Your girlfriend has just told you her family was butchered before her eyes. And I know you know there is a hell of a lot more to that story than what she has told you so far. When the rest comes out, you may need someone to chat to about it. I'm just saying, The Dauntless pays me to do a job, and talking is a vast part of it."

Four was stunned a little at first. This was the first time anyone had actually referred to Tris as his girlfriend. He focused on Jack again to see he was waiting for a response.

"Okay," Four said low.

Jack nodded in acknowledgement, then exited the room.

Four stood there for a minute or two, his eyes drifting from the small bottle he had placed on her table to the door that lead to the shower.

He stripped down to his boxers as he moved through the large room, tossing his clothes into the hamper just inside the closet, before opening the door to the over-large shower cubicle.

His heart broke into a million pieces at what greeted him.

Tris turned all the shower heads on after she had closed the glass door, cranking the temperature up to its highest setting and hissing as she stood under the hot water as it fell around her, too hot and scorching her skin.

Did she think she would be ending her day like this when she awoke this morning? Fuck no!

The water plastered her hair to her head within seconds, the long tendrils clinging to her wet shoulders, and she couldn't stop the involuntary shudder that ran through her body.

She should have listened to Caleb, he had been right. As much as she hated admitting that, even to herself, she had to acknowledge the fact. He had said Four wasn't ready for a mission, she just assumed he was holding on to the insane jealousy he felt toward the new guy. He obviously felt his position shifting; his importance in her life diminishing and that was bullshit, as far as she was concerned.

No matter who she had in her bed or in her life, Caleb would always be someone she would want around her. Maybe his role would change, and he wouldn't be her anchor anymore, but she could never foresee a time when she wouldn't need her brother.

If she had taken what Caleb said seriously, she wouldn't have pushed Four into the mission, he wouldn't have hesitated, and she wouldn't have needed to reveal what she did.

She understood perfectly the need to be honest with Four and tell him her own tragedy, especially since others in the house had started to open up to him. But having that knowledge and putting it into action was something she had cringed away from. She was happy, surprisingly, blissfully happy, and she didn't want that to change. She found something in Four that was missing in every other man she had in her life. There was a masculinity about him she hadn't appreciated with anyone else. He commanded attention, but not with words, not loudly, but with a silence that was intimidating. And it was an intimidation that seemed to draw her to him; that called out to every cell in her body as if telling her this was where she was meant to be. Beside him. She never wanted that to end, to lose what she had found in Four.

And she was terribly fearful it would end. When Four learned the full truth, she was scared it would be too much, and he would leave.

She shook her head, refusing to think any more about it. What was meant to happen would happen, no matter how hard or far she ran from it.

Her mind wandered back to the days that had changed her life forever, and before she could stop it, an agonizing sob escaped her. And as usual, when she let herself be transported back to that room, to remember, she couldn't stop the next one or the next.

She fell to the floor, the scalding water still cascading over her, leaving red marks over her thin white scars, and she ignored the pain as her hands and knees hit the tiles. She hoped the noise from the shower would drown out her crying. She had never cried in front of anyone over what had happened. The only two people to see her like this were Dr. Jack and Caleb. She never even broke down like this in front of her uncles.

She let her body drop completely, laying her cheek on the surprisingly cool tiles as her body wracked with the pain she felt buried deep within. Her eyes caught a glimpse of a few scars along her leg, and she instinctively drew her legs up against her body, making herself as small as possible, hiding from the marks, her tears falling against her knees.

"Oh fuck, Tris," Four called out as he scrambled into the shower, her body curled up in the fetal position before him terrifying him.

He moved quickly, crouching down beside her under the searing water, moving her wet hair away from her face. "Fuck!" he cried again as the hot, hard, pin-pricks of water hit his body. Her eyes were open, though unseeing, as her body continued to shake, eerily silent as tears flowed easily down her cheeks.

"Tris, come on, sit up," and he moved his arms to her shoulder, expecting resistance. His heart plummeted when he found none, and she let him re-position her against the wall of the shower. This wasn't Tris. Not his Tris.

"Tris," Four said softly, not wanting to frighten her, and his hand reached tenderly for her cheek, moving her face to look at him.

She seemed to look straight through him, her mind locked in a place she feared, and Four wondered if he needed help with her. His mind also wondered to the fear landscapes the Dauntless needed to work through in order to complete their training. He knew what happened to her would be one of her fears, and the knowledge she'd needed to relive that in order to become a member of the Dauntless made him bristle with an anger that was unsurmountable.

He shut the water off, cursing at how hot she had it, his eyes not leaving her and noting the red marks the water had left.

He looked lamely around the shower cubicle, not sure how to proceed. She was still shaking, her back to the tiled wall, and Four quickly left, almost slipping in his haste. He grabbed one of the huge soft towels she adored from a shelf beside the glass door and returned, kneeling down cautiously in front of her.

"Tris, I'm gonna wrap you in the towel, okay?"

He didn't get a response, so he tentatively moved the towel forward, brushing it against her arms.

A small smiled twitched at his lip when she automatically turned to him, practically collapsing against his bare chest, and he wrapped her securely in the fluffiness of the cloth, standing with her in his arms. He exited the shower again and placed her gently on the vanity space opposite.

He removed his soaked boxers and wrapped another towel around his waist, all the time knowing she was watching but not seeing.

Four carried her back into the main room and over to the bed, pulling the huge comforter back and sitting her on the edge of the mattress. He walked quickly back into the bathroom, filled a glass with water from the faucet and returned to see she hadn't moved.

He popped the lid from the plastic bottle easily and tipped the two small capsules out into his palm.

"Tris, I'm gonna need you to take these. Okay?" and he held his hand out to her. When she didn't make a move to take them, he placed the glass on the table beside the bed and lifted the tablets to her mouth.

"Please Tris," he said softly, not really liking the idea of forcing the pills down her throat.

She opened her mouth slightly, and Four thanked every God he could think of as he popped them in. He offered her the water, but when she still refused to move, he tipped it toward her lips, hoping she would drink, and he wasn't just going to spill it over her.

"Tris," he whispered, and she leaned forward slightly to take a drink from the glass and swallowed the pills. When she was done, he replaced the glass and moved up onto the bed with her.

He crawled behind her and pulled her back flush against his front, laying them both down on their sides, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

After a while, he felt her body relax as she drifting into sleep. He had no idea how long she would sleep or how the medication would affect her, but at least she was asleep.

Now, as he watched her sleep fretfully, he knew he had to do something to make it better for her.

He moved slowly, unwrapping the towel that was tangled around his legs and inching from the bed.

He found a pair of sweats he had discarded that morning and pulled a t-shirt over his head. With one last look to the small form in the bed, he left their bedroom.

When he entered the room that held the fully-stocked bar, he was hardly surprised to see he wasn't the only one in the need of a drink.

Caleb was slouched in a large leather armchair, his fingers clenched around a tumbler with golden amber liquid in it, the open bottle of whiskey on the table in front of him

Four felt his eyes on him as he strode over to the counter, slipping behind and reaching for an identical glass. He moved back to the chair opposite Caleb's and grabbed the bottle as he sat down. He poured himself a good measure, tipped the tumbler to swallowing the contents completely, and then re-filled the glass. He replaced the bottle before shifting back into his seat.

"How is she?" Caleb asked him, not hiding the contempt in his voice.

"Asleep," Four returned.

They stared at each other as the clock ticked, each with their own thoughts, until Four cleared his throat.

"This bastard, the one that did this to her… is he still alive?"

Caleb's eyes flickered to his glass before he lifted it to his lips and drained the liquid. He leaned forward, snatching up the bottle and poured more into his glass. He took a small drink as he put the bottle back before looking back at Four.

"The Dauntless combed the country looking for him but came up empty. There is still a small group out there, tracking anyone who could be the one," he replied.

Four nodded in response. This man, and he used that word in the simplest of terms, he was probably still out there. And if he was, he must have someone who was hiding him because in the last few weeks, he had come to understand if The Dauntless wanted something, or someone, then The Dauntless would have it.

Four took another drink of his whiskey.

"And the target? The one who put the hit out on your father?" Four probed.

Caleb swallowed nervously at the mention of his father. "He was eventually found and eliminated."

"The agent that missed his target and let that man get away. What happened to him?"

Caleb shifted a little in his chair. "After what happened, after our parents were killed, and Tris…" he stumbled over where he was going with this conversation. "She was brought here by our uncle. She would have died if left to the hospital. She had lost too much blood. Ya know, it was her dog that saved her. Ran to a neighbor, barking, and wouldn't leave until the guy followed him. Jacob led him straight to her, and he called the cops when he found of Tris."

Four nodded at that information, his mind registering if the cops were called there would be a report somewhere. Was he brave enough to take a look at that report? Or was too much like an abuse of his position within the C.P.D?

"What happened to the agent?" Four repeated.

"He killed himself," Caleb answered bluntly. "It was touch and go for a while with Tris, even in a unit. She had sustained too many injuries. That's why she still bears all those scars. The agent, he couldn't get past that if he had done his job in the first place, this may not have happened."

Four finished his drink and quickly poured more into his glass and when Caleb held out his own glass to him, he poured some for him too.

"Caleb," Four started cautiously. "I need your help."

"What do you need?" Caleb asked his brow quirking just like Tris's would.

"I need you to come with me so I can eliminate my target. Complete my mission. I have to do this for Tris."

Caleb nodded to him, pleased with the direction Four had decided to take.

"Tomorrow," Four told him. "I need to stay here tonight, in case she wakes."

"You know," Caleb said, with a smirk. "You may just be alright, Eaton."

Four returned his grin.

"But if you hurt my sister in any way, I will hunt you down. And what that bastard did to my family will not compare to what I will do to you."

"Wouldn't want it any other way, Prior."


	15. Chapter 15

Happy Happy Wednesday to all. It's that day of the week again...

Thanks so much to all the love I received after the last chapter. I'm super happy at how that chapter was received, it was a hard one to write and I absolutely appreciate all the comments to say how you guys though I wrote it well. Those kind of comments are what we writers live for. So keep 'em coming!

* * *

Chapter 15.

Four woke to the sensation of soft, delicate fingers gliding over his hard body. He kept his eyes closed as Tris moved over him slightly, her lips peppering kisses on his chest, and he resisted the urge to smile. He loved it when she woke him this way, but after yesterday, he didn't want to push her in a direction she might not want to go.

His eyelids eventually opened when she settled herself across his hips, and he looked up straight into her eyes. The pale hazel color he found there, haunting and unsure, unnerved him. It was a color he'd never seen in her chameleon eyes. The towel she had been wrapped in had become lost during the night because of her restless sleep, and Four was grateful for the pills which knocked her out, knowing that without them, she probably wouldn't have slept at all.

Four's gaze inadvertently fell on the long scar just below her right breast, and he lifted his left hand, his fingers gliding over it tenderly.

Tris shivered at his touch, and when he moved his other hand to trace the white line above her left hip bone, she closed her eyes. Did this mean he still wanted her after what she had told him, and especially after what she had obviously left out?

Four sat up, his hand sliding up her body until he softly cupped her cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing gently under her eye, as if sweeping any tears away.

Tris opened her eyes at his tender gesture and fell into the warm brown of his. Again, her body shuddered as she felt a ray of love and acceptance emitting from him, and it sent a tantalizing ripple down her spine.

When his lips touched hers, her eyes closed again as she lifted her own hand to graze the wiry hair on his jawline, letting herself fall into his kiss and hoping she could convey what she felt without the need to verbalize anything.

Four sensed her give him control of their kiss and he now understood all those times they had fought for dominance during sex, and all the times he had lost, her refusing to back down and give into him. The only thing he had ever been able to take control of was their kisses.

He shifted his other hand around her body, his fingers spread across her lower back, pulling her as close as possible. The feel of her slim body plastered against his was strangely comforting.

Tris leaned herself greedily into him, needing to feel his hard body and his heat against her soft skin.

They eventually broke their kiss, and she gently pushed on his chest, lowering him back down to the bed.

Four willingly moved to where she wanted him and groaned loudly when she trailed her fingertips over his nipples. Tris smirked slightly at his reaction and inched herself further down his body. When she felt his hardness press against her, she lifted her hips and settled down upon him, taking him deep within her.

Four watched her as she began to move, his hands falling on her hips, only to steady her while not guiding or leading the movement. He let her control how deep she took him and the speed in which they moved.

She started gentle, taking comfort in the sensual ripple that waved through her body. Then her pace increased and she rode him hard and deep, and he let her take what she needed from him, his gaze constantly on her face, watching the myriad of emotions that flittered across her striking features. Her eyes upon him until that moment when her orgasm hit. The sight of her glistening body coming apart over him triggered his own release, and he followed her into ecstasy.

She eventually collapsed against him, their breathing in tandem as they struggled to regain control.

The room was silent, only their harsh breathing breaking the stillness, so he couldn't miss her quiet voice.

"I'm sorry," Tris whispered against his chest.

Four lifted his hand and tilted her chin so he could look into her eyes.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he told her sincerely.

"I should have told you sooner," she explained.

"You told me when you needed to. And when you are ready to tell me the rest, I'll be here. I'm not going anywhere, Tris."

Tris smiled thinly at him, her eyes roaming his features and looking for signs he was being truthful.

Four rolled them in the bed, covering her small body with his much larger one and then suddenly wondered if she was okay this. He made a move to pull away from her, but she stopped him, securing her arms around his shoulders and holding him in place.

"Don't," she said softly, her voice almost breaking with sorrow. "Don't change what happens between us."

So he settled his weight over her, his legs entwining with hers, and they lay together, Tris's arms still around his shoulders, and Four's head against her breast.

…

The bullet rang true and straight as Four made quick work of his target. In his mind, he envisioned Tris broken in the shower, and he vowed he would never see her like that again or put anyone else in the position where that could be a possibility. The bullet hit Daniel Marrison square between the eyes, and Caleb had to admit he was impressed.

Four hadn't told Tris he was going with Caleb to complete his mission. Following their morning sex, she had been closed off; not going into work, remaining in their room, and eating very little. Following a hallway chat with Dr. Jack, he found this was the norm for Tris after taking the medication he had given her last night to help her sleep. He was assured she would be fine within 24 hours.

He celebrated, though he wasn't sure celebrate was the right word, with Caleb at a local bar, seeming to have come to some understand with Tris's brother.

On returning to the house, he couldn't find Tris anywhere. He made a frantic search of the huge mansion, asking anyone he encountered if they had seen her but came up empty-handed.

He stood beside one of the glass doors which led out onto the wide terrace that ran the length of the house, leaning his weight against the door frame, his eyes straining to the rock in the distance. Seeing no figure outlined there, he rejected the idea of walking over.

His mind wandered to the variety of hiding places this vast estate held, and he knew he would need assistance in locating her.

He turned and headed back into the depths of the building, finding some of his fellow agents in a room they frequently used to hang out.

He moved quickly to Caleb. "I can't find her," was all it took for the other man to stand quickly from his seat and tear from the room.

Four looked bewilderedly at the others and was surprised to see Christina stalk over to him, coming to a stop directly in front of him, her feet planted wide and her hands on her hips.

"If you hurt my girl, I will personally beat you down," she scowled up to him, poking a sharp finger in his chest for emphasis.

Four could help the snicker that escaped his lips at the sight of the slight girl threatening him.

Christina quirked an eyebrow as she folded her arms across her chest. "Do you doubt that I could?" she asked. "Just because I don't have any of your freaky Divergent abilities, and I'm," she paused and snorted, "a woman, does not mean I can't seriously whip your ass."

"Chris, babe," Will's smooth voice floated through the room. "Let him be. Let him find Tris."

Christina looked over to Will and then back to Four. "You'd better find her," she finished before turning on her heel and moving quickly back across the room to Will.

Caleb reappeared, his expression blank as he looked to Four and gave him a slight shake of his head. He had come up empty in his own search for his cousin.

Four turned to look at Tori, hoping she might have an idea where Tris could be. Tori shook her head slowly, not knowing where to look.

He swung his head back to Caleb, now seriously becoming concerned and watched as Caleb seemed to search his memory for some clue. Four watched as his eyes lit up, and he ran from the room again, this time with Four following.

Caleb moved quickly through the house, taking the wide staircase two steps at a time, then turned to head down the east corridor instead of the west where all their bedrooms were located.

He stopped suddenly in front of ornate double doors and lifted his hand to turn the handle. When it didn't rotate, he banged loudly on the wood.

"Tris?" he called out before turning his head to listen for any movement within, explaining to Four, "She's the only one with the key."

Four copied him, hitting the door with his knuckles. "Come on, Tris. Open the door."

Caleb looked to the other man. "She may not be in there."

"Whose room is it?" Four asked, hoping he wouldn't say any other guy's name.

Caleb swallowed. "It was our parents' room. They used it whenever The Dauntless held events here." He shrugged. "It's always been their room."

"Does she often come here?" Four asked, his hand knocking again.

"Sometimes. Look, it's obvious she's not here," Caleb returned frustrated.

Four looked down the hallway toward the west wing and their room. "Has that room always been hers?" he asked, his hand pointing down the corridor.

Caleb looked to him. "No," he answered and moved again further down the east hallway until he came to a door painted pale pink, causing it to stand out among the other natural pine doors.

"The Prior's all have rooms here, even those who don't necessarily want them. This was hers as a kid. After our parents died, she refused to step inside this room and took the one in the west wing," Caleb explained. He reached out, and turned the knob, and the door opened before him.

Four stepped through into a room that obviously belonged to a young girl. The walls were covered in a pale pink paper with a silver swirl pattern repeated through it. The main focus of the room was a white canopied bed with pink material hanging gracefully around it. The furniture in the room echoed the pink and white theme, and Four wasn't completely sure he could imagine the Tris he knew calling this room her own.

Yes, she was girly, delicate, and feminine in every way a woman should be, but there was also a hardness to her, a toughness that he now understood. The girl she'd been when she last used this room was not the one who returned to it after her parents' deaths. This room represented fairytales and childhood innocence, and she had lost that.

"She's not here," Caleb acknowledged, and Four bit back a sarcastic remark.

"Where else would she go?" Four asked him, trying to keep the worry from his voice.

"I don't know," Caleb exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"Think, damn it," Four growled.

After a few minutes, Caleb still came up blank.

Four took a deep breath, calming himself, needing to move out of boyfriend territory and into his police-trained mind.

"Any place you two played together as children?" he asked Caleb.

Caleb searched in mind for places they would have played as kids, places away from the grown-ups of Dauntless.

His eyes lit up, and he looked at the Four. "The attic."

They turned as one and left the room to its ghosts of a lost girl, Four closing the door quietly behind him. He again followed Caleb down the corridor, heading back to the top of the stairs. Once there, Caleb opened a door that Four had assumed was a linen closet and was greeted with a narrow flight of stairs.

Caleb slapped his hand against a switch which instantly illuminated the space above, and they bound up the stairs at once.

The attic was vast, incredibly so, probably covering the whole length and width of the house.

"Wow, there's a lot of places to hide up here," Four whispered, unsure why he had lowered his voice.

"Yeah, and Tris was an expert at hiding," Caleb mumbled.

An image flashed in Four's mind of looking for something within the chests, wardrobes, and boxes in this large area. He could almost hear a soft light voice giggling, and he turned to Caleb.

"I think I must have joined you in some of your games," he told the younger man, and Caleb nodded, maybe sharing the same memories.

"Okay, we are splitting up. I don't want to waste time both of us looking in one place," Four instructed Caleb, not taking no for an answer. "You stay here and look, I'm gonna get hold of security and make sure she hasn't left the estate."

Caleb nodded and moved further into the attic. "Call me on my cell if you find her," Caleb said to him.

Four nodded as he left, taking the stairs two at a time, and then the main staircase until he was at the front door.

A quick conversation with Gavin told him she hadn't left the house through the front door, and after a short talk to someone in the garage, she hadn't requested or taken any of her cars.

Four was now scared, and he stopped in the middle of the hallway, at a loss of where to look next.

He took a deep breath, inhaling slowly and exhaling with the same pace. He closed his mind to the swirling concerns of a missing girlfriend and opened something he wasn't aware of until a month ago. He knew he could sense her whenever she was in close proximity to him and now he needed to rely on that ability. After taking a few calming breaths he could feel her presence, almost on the peripheries of his consciousness, but he was unable to pinpoint a direction to move in.

He turned sharply and hit the wall with his fist, frustration and desperation pouring from him.

"You can hit the wall all you like, but all that will do is break your hand and force you into a unit," a smooth voice said. "How do you expect to find your girl if you are stuck trying to mend your hand?"

Four turned to face the Russian immigrant who had once had a closer relationship with his lover than he would have appreciated.

"Do you know where she is?" he asked, his voice sounded not like his own. He sounded hard and desperate.

Vladimir smiled to Four and then turned, walking further down the corridor, and Four had no option but to follow. He couldn't help the conflicting emotions that hit him, thinking that Tris's past lover had been the one she had gone to in her time of need.

They walked in silence, out of the house, across the stone terrace, down the marble stairs, and Four stopped short when he came to what looked like a golf buggy, something the grounds people used to move around the estate.

Vladimir indicated for Four to climb into the vehicle, and when he had, Vladimir pointed down a paved way that ran off the other side of the estate, its path twisting out of sight. "Follow the path all the way."

"Thanks," Four said with honesty, despite his inner contrasting emotions, and he pressed down on the pedal, the buggy setting off, slowly.

…

What seemed like an endless time later, though it had only been five minutes, Four watched as a few stone monuments came into view, and Four's heart dropped when he recognized what could only be described as a family cemetery.

As he drove nearer, he finally made out the figure down on the damp grass between two tall statues.

She was sitting Indian-style, her hands in her lap, and her gaze straight in front of her.

He stopped the buggy beside the iron fencing and walked slowly across the grass until he stood behind her.

Tris didn't acknowledge his presence, slightly surprised he'd found her. She felt him crouch down behind her and then settle back onto his bottom. He inched closer to her slowly, bringing his legs either side of her knees.

"Are you cold?" he asked her softly, to which she shook her head, then leaned back against him, and Four wrapped his arms around her waist holding her close, his chin resting lightly on her shoulder.

"I was worried," he told her honestly.

"I'm sorry," Tris whispered, her voice so far from what he was used to that it almost broke his heart.

"Hey, don't you be sorry," Four chastised her gently. "Just maybe tell someone where you are heading next time."

Tris smiled at his soft reprimanding and nodded her head, her left hand coming up around the side of Four's head, her fingers curling into his hair.

"My dad met my mom at a Dauntless function," she started, her voice low. "He hated everything to do with the Dauntless and thought its members were reckless and impulsive but he was required to attend functions by his father." She moved her hand from his head to rest them both on his arms around her waist.

"My father believed in words over strength," she continued, "that you could win an argument just as well with speech than with fists. He would hate what I am, what I've become, but my mom…," he heard more than saw the ghost of a smile on her lips as she paused in remembrance, "she was a member of Dauntless when my father met her. She represented everything he hated but he loved her beyond reason. He installed in her a gentleness, a selflessness that she strove to achieve, for him. She practically changed her whole personality to be with him and I'm not sure he ever appreciated that."

She turned her head slight, leaning back against his shoulder to be able to look at him. "Can you imagine losing a part of yourself to be with someone? To lose yourself in them?" She wasn't sure what she was asking. _Was she losing a part of who she was to be with Four?_ She never gave herself over completely to another person, would she do that with Four?

When he didn't answer she shifted again so her back was once again against his chest and she wriggled to get comfy in his embrace.

"He's dead," Four said eventually, his voice low.

"Who?" Tris asked, tensing up a little.

"Daniel Marrison."

Tris turned completely around in Four's arms until she faced him, kneeling between his legs.

"How?" her face showing her confusion.

Four trailed his fingertips across her cheek and down to her chin, a soft smile on his face. "I asked Caleb to help me. The target hadn't stepped up his security, so we had a window of opportunity. I took it. He is eliminated."

Tris lifted her hand and splayed her fingers across his cheeks, holding him in place so she could look deep into his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, her own eyes now a washed-out, pale-watery green, projecting the internal turmoil she had be through the day before.

"Why?" Four asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"Because you had to give up a piece of yourself, lose something that is fundamentally you."

Four was amazed that Tris, the girl who had lost so much too early in her life, was concerned about him.

"Silly girl," he whispered, pulling her to him in an encompassing hug. "I gave up a piece of myself the moment I laid eyes on you," he said, unwittingly answering her earlier question; that he had changed. Changed for her, because of her.

Tris shifted from her kneeling position so she could curl up against him.

Four held her close as his gaze wandered over the monuments beside them, angels in flight, faces tipped upward to the heavens. It was obvious to him whose tome stones these were and her telling him something about her parents made it all the clearer.

"So," Tris whispered, her voice breaking the silence. "Are you ready for your tatt now?"

"Ah, Tris," Four groaned having forgotten all about that unpleasant factor of joining The Dauntless. "Do I really have to?"

"You won't be a part of The Dauntless if you don't," she returned with a slight smile at his whining. "And besides, they won't take no for an answer anyway.

"Well, I was hoping they would forget about that," he admitted. While he wasn't adverse to the idea of the tatt, after all his back was a work of art, he didn't appreciate being told he had to get one.

Tris gave a snort of laughter, and Four grinned, happy she was at least making the effort again.

"Do the words three bottles of tequila and half a bottle of absinthe mean anything to you?" she retorted, reminding him of how she had her own ink done, and Four bristled at the fact her friends had gotten her drunk and held her down, knowing her past.

"Don't worry about it, Four," she said, her hand gently caressing his chest. "We'll go get it done tomorrow. Meet me for lunch?"

"Are you going back to work in the morning?"

Tris nodded. "I have a meet with some investor."

Four scoffed good-heartedly. "CEO of Acquisitions and Distributions, indeed."

They were silently again for a few minutes, Four stroking her hair softly and Tris listening to his heart beating.

"I was actually thinking of going back to the police department tomorrow."

"So you want to still work there? Won't that be a conflict of interest?"

Four shrugged. "Maybe. I just want to try if for a while to see if it will work."

"Okay, Four. If that's want you want."

He didn't tell her that he had every intention of looking further into the case which involved her parents' deaths, hoping a fresh set of eyes would reveal something that had been missed.

"Will you still be able to meet me for lunch?" she asked.

"Sure," he grinned, thinking he would like to see someone try and stop him.

"Good," and she turned again, sitting back on her heels. "Let's go back to our room."

Four nodded and swung his legs around so he could stand, helping her up at the same time.

Tris turned to one of the stone statue and leaned over slightly, placing her lips against the cold stone.

"Goodnight, Mom," she whispered, then repeated her gesture to the other effigy, saying, "Goodnight, Dad."

Four held his hand out for her, hoping she would take it and smiling when she did, and they left the area together.

…

The mid-day sun beat relentlessly on the figure lying with ease on the graveled surface of the rooftop of an anonymous downtown building. His gaze was focused on a building down the block from his current position. He moved the binoculars once again, rubbing his eyes and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

He felt a little lighthearted and fleetingly wondered if it was because of the hot blaze on his back or the knowledge that he was going to see his prey again after eight long years.

He had been informed she would be taking lunch away from her office today, and he was waiting, not so patiently, for her to exit her tall building. He had been warned to keep his distance for the time being. Her instincts were heightened, and he was not to mess up with this job. Not again or it would be his life on the line.

He brought the binoculars back to eyes and watched again for a few minutes until he saw a glimmer of blonde hair.

His heartbeat quickened as he watched her walk with graceful ease through the plaza in front of the buildings, her hips swaying naturally in a way that was sensual and enticing. She had grown slightly since he had last seen her, filling out in all the right places, but her body remained tantalizing, just as he remembered. Her hair was a little longer, and he could almost imagine the feel of the silky strands running through his fingers.

His internal fantasies came to an abrupt end when she greeted a man with an impassioned kiss. He studied this guy intently, taking in his rugged looks, his beat-up leather jacket, and his hair obviously growing out from a short buzz cut and stopped when the sun bounced off the police badge clipped to his belt.

He watched as the man secured her under his arm, her own snaking around his waist, and they turned as one heading down the street.

He removed the binoculars once more, collapsing them back down and into their carrycase, and stood quickly, brushing at the dirt from his jeans.

She had a boyfriend; and a cop boyfriend, at that. He wondered why he hadn't been told this pertinent piece of information. The only thing he had been informed was not to underestimate her. She was stronger and more powerful than any average person could imagine.

His lips twisted into a sardonic grin. She had a boyfriend. He could use that to his advantage, and as he moved quickly to the door leading down from the rooftop, his mind began conjuring the varying ways he could torture his next victim.

…


	16. Chapter 16

Hello you gorgeous people, hope all is well in your part of the world.

Thanks so much for the new follows and favorites, you all make my heart sing - almost at 100 follows! Wow! that's all I can say.

To my two guest reviewers - thanks for your comments.

This chapter picks up from where we left the last one, I hope you enjoy it...

* * *

Chapter 16

Four felt uneasy as he followed Tris into the darkened club they had visited with their friends from the Dauntless. He had met her outside her office building as she had requested and he hoped she had forgotten about the tattoo thing and they would have a pleasant lunch together.

Of course, he knew better to think Tris would forget anything and when they entered the club he knew his hopes of a quiet lunch with his girlfriend were shot.

"We don't have to do this today," he offered, part of him hoping to stall her while the other part wanted it to just be over.

"No way, Eaton. You are not getting out of this. I'm not too shallow to resort to underhanded tactics to get you in that chair," Tris winked at him.

"Underhanded tactics," he repeated, his lips curling up to match her grin. "What do you have in mind?"

"Using my womanly charms, of course," she laughed as she stopped him from walking any further into the club, placing her open palm on his chest. "Look, if you really don't want to do this, I could probably talk Bud into making a transfer or something. We could put that on so you could show the others and then just forget about it."

"No," Four answered softly, his heart flipping at the knowledge that she would be willing to cheat the system for him. "I'll go through with it. It's nothing compare to the tattoo I already have, right?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "Did I ever tell you how impressive that is?"

"Yes," he grinned. "Repeatedly."

"Well, I can't help it. You have one sexy back, Four," she smiled seductively.

"And it won't hurt as much either," she continued. "Mind you, I didn't feel a thing when I had mine done," she told him as she ran one hand up his body and around his neck, her other wrapping around his side as she tried to pull him closer to her.

"That's because you were piss-assed drunk, Tris," Four replied straight-faced, trying to resist the pull of her, but of course, she won.

"Semantics," she whispered before covering his lips with hers, and Four gladly kissed her back.

"Have you ever had sex on a bar?" she asked as she nibbled at his jawline.

"Not yet?" he grinned.

Tris moved her hands back to his chest, then up again to help rid him of his jacket, taking every opportunity to feel his hard muscles beneath her palms, which had become more defined over the last month with his training. Her lips curled into a smile as Four watched as she moved liked liquid, walking around him to press her front against his back.

Tris was certainly grateful for her heels as she leaned into him, her hand wrapping around, and she deftly stroked his growing erection through his jeans.

"Tris," Four hissed at her touch.

"Ssh," she whispered against his ear, turning him around to face her. Four took this opportunity to remove her blazer, dropping it to the floor, and Tris almost berated him for his treatment of her $2,000 jacket but held her tongue when his lips attacked her neck.

"Four," she breathed out, and pushed him gently, maneuvering him back across the expanse of the large bar room and through the door that led down to a small area which Bud used as a makeshift studio to tattoo the people of Dauntless.

By the time they stumbled into the room, Tris had his t-shirt off, and he had unfastened the buttons of her shirt. The room was dark, and the only light coming in was from the hallway.

Tris grinned as she pushed Four down into a large leather chair. He appreciated the cool material on his back as his body heated up, as her hands trailed down his body, popping the button of his jeans as she climbed up on top of him. She settled herself astride his legs, her skirt rising dangerously high on her thighs, and she moaned softly as his hand reached out to cup a lace-covered breast.

"Maybe we should stop them now," a low voice commented with amusement, causing Four and Tris to stop, with Four's hand on her breast and Tris's hand dipping into his jeans.

"Hush, Caleb," another voice growled, "they are just getting to the good stuff," and Tris sighed loudly.

"Shit," Tris hissed, blinking quickly when the light snapped on.

Four twisted his head around and groaned when he saw several members of the Dauntless standing against the back wall of the room, and most prominent in the group was Bud, his tattooed arms folded across his body and Four had a feeling of impending doom.

"You can remove your hand, now," Caleb said with a miserable look, and both Four and Tris quickly removed their hands from the other's body.

"What are you guys doing here?" Tris asked the group as she scrambled off Four, Caleb shooting forward to give her a hand.

"Moral support," Zeke offered with a smile. "This is a big day, Four. We are here to support you."

"And to try and get a look at the goods," Christina piped up as she peered around Will's shoulder.

Four made a move to get up from the chair, but Tris put her hand on his bare chest, pushing him back into the seat with a smirk, her other hand pushing her skirt back into place.

"Have you decided on a place?" Bud asked, moving over to the chair and rummaging through his equipment, placing needles on a stainless steel table next to his tattoo gun.

Four shook his head at Bud's question, his eyes landing warily on the instruments being laid out. He had been thinking about this for a while now. He was limited for space on his back apart from the column of flesh of his spine, so he could have the Dauntless symbol tattooed there. But, he had a nagging feeling he wanted it some place different.

His gaze swung back to Tris as she moved away from the chair, fastening her shirt as she walked over to Christina. The ever fashion-conscious girl made some comment on Tris's clothes, and he watched as she beamed at whatever Christina was saying to her. Then her gaze shifted to meet his, and she winked to him, her smile turning into a cheeky grin.

"Hey, Blondie," he called to her. "You promised me lunch, remember?"

"Relax, Four. Pizza's on its way," she answered him, her eyes searching for his t-shirt which she had so easily removed a few moments ago. She found it on the floor just inside the door, and she made a move to retrieve it for him.

"Hey, Tris, let's not be too hasty. If the guy wants to leave his shirt off, who are we to stop him?" Christina quipped.

"You are incorrigible," Tris said to her friend, ignoring Four's discarded shirt, preferring this look way better anyway.

"Hey, I'm just being honest and saying what everyone else thinks," Christina returned, bumping her hip against Tris's.

Four, who had been watching the easy conversation between Tris and Christina, said to Bud without taking his eyes from Tris, "On my hip."

"What?" Bud asked, turning back to Four.

"I want the tatt on my hip," Four repeated.

Bud followed Four's eyes and grinned, understanding what the cop was saying without words.

"The same place?" Bud asked, and Four nodded.

"You'll need to drop your pants," Bud smirked, "and anything else you have on under there."

Four's eyes turned quickly to Bud, and the barman knew instinctively what he was thinking.

"You know, a tattooist is like a doctor," he said to Four.

"What do you mean?"

"We see without actually seeing," Bud answered.

Four analyzed Bud's statement for a moment before understanding what the other man meant. Though his client might be naked before him, he took little notice.

"And she didn't take anything off," Bud added with a knowing smile.

Four looked down to his already unfastened jeans, and his hands reached in preparation of moving them lower. He stopped when a shot glass appeared in front of his face.

He turned his head to see Caleb standing beside him, offering him the drink. "For courage," Caleb said, by way of an explanation.

Four debated about taking the shot. He was due back in work this afternoon, and he didn't really need the courage, but he figured one wouldn't hurt.

He took the small glass, sat forward a little in the chair, and tossed back the liquid, grimacing as it burned his throat. Caleb slapped him on his back as he moved away, refilling the glass and taking the drink himself.

Four's hands returned to his jeans, and he lifted his hips a little, pushing the denim further down his legs. He heard a low whistle and immediately knew it was Christina. This was then echoed goodheartedly throughout the room by the guys, and Four couldn't help the smirk he threw over to Tris.

As he settled back into the chair again, he watched again as Christina leaned over, saying something to Tris, something that made her eyes twinkle and her lips curl into a smile, and she nodded quickly, which caused Christina to laugh, her eyes swinging back to Four.

Four turned back to Bud when the chair started to move, the middle lifting and the back lowering until Four was laid out straight. As Bud turned back to the table, Four positioned his boxers so they hung extremely low, but still covered the essentials.

Tris walked over to the door and picked his shirt up from the floor and tossed it over to him with a smirk, one to which he returned with his own before slipping the material over his head and covering his upper body.

Bud made his preparations, and Four relaxed back into the leather of the chair, his mind half-listening to the conversations taking place around him and half-thinking about this defining moment. He knew the Dauntless took their membership seriously and this was his way of finally being admitting into that family. He would no longer be a lone wolf, he would belong.

When Bud moved his stool closer to the chair, tattoo instrument in his hand, Four's attention was brought back to this situation.

"Hey, don't you need to draw the symbol on first?" Four asked concerned.

"Four, I've done this pattern so many times I could draw it with my eyes closed," Bud informed him.

He jumped when Bud's tattoo gun whirled to life and cautiously watched as it lowered to his skin to an almost identical place on his body as the ink on Tris.

Four raised his eyebrow in question to Bud when he noticed he was about to draw the pattern on the opposite side to that of Tris's.

"Trust me," Bud answered his silent question, and when Four gave a short nod, the needle hit his skin, and he bit down on his tongue, closing his eyes at the sensation. He let out a curse, his eyelids opening quickly and he shot Tris an accusing look. Holy fuck, it hurt, he didn't remember his back hurting like this. Like a burning feeling with a million pin-pricks hitting in the same spot or like having a hot knife slice against your skin.

He heard a cheer go up from the others and glasses clinking together as he was wished health and prosperity but he lost all thought of them when Tris's hands wove into his hair.

He knew instinctively it was her, though her scent would have given her away anyway, and he opened his eyes to see her beaming to him. She lowered her lips to his and gave him a gentle kiss.

Tris was a little shocked when Four had lowered his boxers slightly, and Bud had started to mark out his tattoo in a place that matched her own, and her heart leapt to know they would now share the intimate placement of their Dauntless marks. She had assumed he would have had the flame symbol created on his back, somehow incorporating it with the artwork already there.

"He is so pussy-whipped," Caleb said loudly, intending for Four to hear.

"Why?" Will asked before hiccupping and reaching for another shot.

"Maybe you should take it easy, babe," Christina reasoned with Will. "You have to be back at the garage this afternoon."

Will smirked at his girlfriend before drinking the liquid and turning back to Caleb and repeating, "Why?"

"Because," Caleb grinned, "he's having his tattoo in the same place as hers."

"Isn't that an intimate place for a brother to know about?" Four said, showing he was listening to their conversation.

"Oh please, it would be easier to say who hasn't seen it," Caleb quipped.

"Hey," Tris exclaimed. "Make it sound like I'm a slut, why don't you?"

"I haven't seen it," Zeke threw out, his voice soft and kind.

"Me, neither," Al added with a hint of misery.

Four twitched his eyes to Will. "Nope," Will answered with a shake of his head.

Four by-passed Vladimir, knowing full well he would have seen it.

"I've seen it," Christina grinned, and all eyes swung between her and Tris. "What?" she exclaimed at their looks.

"Get your minds out the gutter, boys," Tris laughed.

"Hey, mine is definitely not in the gutter," Will responded, turning to Christina, "Do you want to repeat whatever you two were doing?"

Tris shook her head with a smile and turned back to Four, leaving this one up to Christina. Though that might not be the best idea as she tended to only make things worse.

"You doing okay?" she asked, sinking into a chair beside his head, one hand still in his hair.

"Yeah, it tickles."

"Really?" she queried disbelieving, her other hand clasping his.

"Well, you could distract me if you want," he smiled to her.

"Oh, and how am I supposed to do that?" she probed.

"Kiss me," he answered simply.

"I can do that."

It didn't take long before the tattoo was finished, and Four was cautiously pulling his jeans back up.

"How long will it take to heal?" he asked.

"It will take about a week for the scabbing to go," Bud told him. "Moisturize it well, and Tris, be gentle with him for a while."

"I don't do gentle," she grinned.

"Gentle is good in the right circumstances, babe," Four grinned as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her back against his chest, then hissed when she made contact with his sore skin.

"Pizza's here," Al called loudly as Uriah entered, carrying a large stack of pizza boxes, and they moved from the small room into the larger bar area, Bud opening some beers as they settled into chairs around a few tables.

Tris stood behind Four as he relaxed back into his seat, a huge slice of pizza in his hand. He lifted it to his lips and folded half of the slice into his mouth as Tris wrapped her arms around his shoulders, resting her body against his back, her head on his shoulder. He offered the rest of the pizza to her, and she took a delicate bite.

Once she had chewed and swallowed she said, "I have to get back to the office."

"As lunch dates go, Blondie," he started, "this has got to have been the most interesting one I've been on."

"Well, I promise to make it up to you," she offered, "as soon as you are healed," and her eyes twinkled with meaning.

"Okay, I'll hold you to that," he grinned before moving his hand to hold her head as he twisted his face to kiss her.

"I may be home late," he told her when they broke their kiss.

"Okay," she acknowledged as she moved away from him.

"I'll walk you back, Bea," Caleb offered with a nod to Four.

"It's okay, Caleb," Tris dismissed him. "I have to make a stop on my way back, anyway."

"A stop where?" Caleb probed.

"None of your busy, KK," she answered, and with one more swift kiss to Four, she swept from the room, leaving her boys alone in Christina's more than capable.

...

She was a little late back to her building but grinned to George and Lauren as she entered her office, swinging a paper bag which contained her new purchase in her hand.

George followed her into the office. "You have a 3 o'clock meeting with Robert from the Brown Consortium," he informed her.

"Oh, great," Tris moaned dramatically. "Just what my afternoon needs. Being ogled at by the one ball wonder."

"So, it's true?" George asked, his eyes wide.

"How am I supposed to know?" Tris exclaimed.

"I'm sure if there was anyone out there to get the information, it would be you," George replied with a smile.

"George, are you suggesting I use my personal assets to debunk a rumor?" she asked in mock shock.

"Wouldn't you like to know for sure?" the P.A. probed.

Tris pondered his question for a moment before concluding, "Nah. I don't really give a shit. I just want him to see I'm more than a pair of tits."

George laughed loudly at that just as the door to her office opened.

"There is far too much laughter coming from this office," a deep voice boomed. "Obviously, you need more work."

"Uncle Harry," Tris squealed as she jumped up quickly from her chair and dashed around her desk, into the arms of her favorite uncle.

Henry Prior was a large man, almost as tall as her father had been, and was eight years his junior. His features were soft, and he had very few wrinkles, only those that showed his joy of life. At 42, he was considered one of the most eligible bachelors in Chicago. His hair was a light brown, which was beginning to be peppered with gray. He had broad shoulders and was still in good shape, though there were areas that were starting to expand with age. He wrapped his large arms around his small niece, a smile spreading quickly over his face. "Hey Pixie-child. Not working too hard, I hope."

"Ah, you know me, Uncle Harry," Tris answered glibly with a toss of her hair. "How was Milan?" she asked.

"And by that, you are actually asking, 'what did you bring me?'"

Tris smiled as she bounced a little on her toes. "What did you bring me?"

"You'll have to wait and see," he told her, as if it was a great secret, and he indicated for her to sit back down.

"Would you like a drink, Mr. Prior?" George offered with a smile. He, too, liked Henry Prior so much more than Mason. Mason was cold, arrogant, and unapproachable whereas Harry was the complete opposite.

"Thank you, yes," Harry answered as he settled into a chair across the desk form Tris. "Coffee will be just fine."

George nodded and scurried off to prepare the beverages.

"So I hear The Dauntless has a new member?" Harry said, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Yeah," Tris answered, her own orbs lighting up at the thought of Four.

"And I see it is this new guy who has put that sparkle back into your eyes."

Tris beamed at her uncle and nodded quickly.

Henry's smile dissolved slowly as he looked at his niece. "Tris," he started seriously. "Jack stopped me back at the house. He told me what has been happening over the last few days with Four and him missing his target."

Tris's body stiffened at her uncle's words and silently cursed Jack for tattling on her.

"Don't give me that look, Beatrice," Henry said almost sternly as George returned with their coffees.

"Thank you," he said to the younger man. "I have some information for you regarding a project I want Tris to participate in," he informed him. "I'll have Caitlyn make sure you get it."

George nodded as he left the two to talk.

"What project?" Tris asked suspiciously narrowing her eyes to the man she looked on as a father figure.

"We'll discuss that in a moment. First, back to Jack," Henry instructed, and Tris huffed as she slumped in her enormous leather chair.

"You need to talk to him, Tris. You can't just reveal what you did to Four and expect to be just fine. Jack told me he had to medicate you that night."

Tris looked anywhere but at her uncle, knowing he was right but refusing to accept it. She was coping just fine.

"Tris, remember how you were those months after you came out of the unit? Those days were like hell on earth for you. And not just for you, but for me, your Uncle Mason, your Grandfather, and Caleb. We all lived those days with you, and we worried constantly."

Henry watched as Tris shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "You never knew this, but every morning I would check in on you. Watch you as you slept, making sure you were still breathing because, I have to be honest with you, I was terrified. Terrified he would get to you again and terrified you wouldn't be able to face another day and do something stupid."

Tris had stopped moving at his words, and she couldn't stop the tear that fell. "I'm sorry," she said softly, her voice almost like that of a child seeking forgiveness for stealing a forbidden cookie.

"For Christ's sake, Tris. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for!" Henry said, standing and moving quickly around her large desk.

Tris wrapped her arms around his waist from her position in her chair as he hugged her close. "I'm not saying these things to hurt you, child. I need you to understand. You are everything to me, you and Caleb are all I have left of my brother, and the main goal of my life is to keep you safe. But you have to help, Tris. I can't do it all on my own."

Tris sniffed loudly against him, burying her face against the bulk of his stomach.

"You need to talk to someone about all this. I understand your reluctance to talk to me, Caleb, or your Uncle Mason, and I expect there are parts you don't want to talk about with your new boy. But you have Jack, and he is concerned for you, Tris."

Tris nodded against him, her tears soaking his shirt. Henry pulled away from her and knelt down beside her chair, grunting as he went. "Geez, I'm getting too old for this."

Once he was on her level, he cupped her cheek. "You are a precious thing, Tris. All this; all that your uncle and I do is for you, you and Caleb. You two are the only ones left of this Prior clan. And, Pixie-child, can you image what will happen if we let Caleb have full rein?"

Tris couldn't help the snort that escaped her at that thought.

Henry looked seriously at her. "Talk to Jack."

Tris closed her eyes and nodded once at his instructions. Henry stood again placing a soft kiss against her forehead before returning to his seat.

"Now, enough of that shit. Let's talk about this new project," he grinned as he brought his coffee cup to his lips.

Tris wiped her tears away, loving her uncle even more then she thought possible.

"Is this about that auction again?" she asked as she stood from her seat and walked over to the drinks cabinet behind her. She quickly opened the door and snagged a large bottle of whiskey before returning to her desk and pouring a liberal amount into her coffee.

Henry grinned to her as he held out his own cup for his share of the malt goodness. Tris smirked to him as she poured a small amount and then almost dropped the bottle when he tipped her elbow, adding more alcohol.

Once she had recapped the bottle and set it on the desk, she returned to her seat and took a grateful sip from her cup.

"Well," she probed, her eyebrow rising in question because he hadn't answered her.

"Tris, it's one night out of your life."

"And like I've said before, I'm not a piece of meat."

"Well, think of all the money you could help raise for the desolate children in Chicago."

"So, donate some money, and have it be done."

"Okay, think of the publicity for The Prior Group."

"Uncle Harry," she stopped him, "let me think about it, okay? I need to talk to Four about this."

"Since when did Tris Prior have to get permission from her man to do anything she wanted to do?" he laughed.

"This affects him, too," she said with a shrug.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" Henry mocked. "Do I detect a certain glow about you when you talk about this man?"

"Four's different," Tris answered vaguely.

"Yeah, Marcus Eaton's son," Henry smirked. "You know, you two had a strong bond as children. He was always following you around, making sure you had what you wanted."

"I can't have been more than two, Uncle Henry," she said, disbelieving.

"You weren't but even then, you had him wrapped around your little finger," he told her.

Tris smiled at that, and when Henry laughed out loud, she looked quizzically at him. "What?"

"I've just remembered something. Just before Marcus left us, we held a dinner in his honor, and you, Caleb, and Tobias were there. And after the usual toasts to wish Marcus success in his endeavors, Tobias climbed up onto the table and stood there as proud and strong as his five year-old body would allow and said, "I can't leave, Daddy. I have to stay here and marry Beatrice." And you, you tried as hard as you could to clamber up next to him. In the end, your dad picked you up and placed you beside him on top of the table and that, my little pixie, was the moment you first kissed a boy who wasn't a member of this family."

Tris smiled, wishing she could remember that moment and wondering if Four did. She felt in awe at the fact that the two of them had found each other again after all these years.

The intercom rang on Tris's desk, and she leaned over, stretching a delicate finger to press the talk button. "Yes?"

"Just letting you know, Robert Brown will be here in about 20 minutes," George's smooth tone filled the room.

"Thanks, George," she said gratefully.

"Ok, I'd better leave you to put your game face on. Robert Brown is a shithead," Henry grinned.

"Don't I know it," Tris huffed, and she watched Henry stand and rearrange his jacket.

"Hey, Uncle Harry," she said, and when he raised his eyebrows in question she continued. "If you should run into Four, don't call him Tobias, okay. He goes by Four."

Henry nodded his consent.

Then her eyes light up. "So, what's my gift?"

"Why, Pixie-child, what do I always bring you?" Henry laughed as moved to the doors that led from her office.

Tris beamed at his words. "Shoes."

"Would I dare bring anything else?" he answered her.

"I love you, Uncle Harry," was her simple return.


	17. Chapter 17

Hey everyone, hope you are all happy and thriving this beautiful March day.

Many thanks, as always, to you guys who read and review, it means the world to me to know what you guys think. And for those who just read, come one, leave a review, no matter how small it still makes me happy.

To my ever faithful guest reviewer, thanks!

One more thing before you start reading. A wonderful reviewer, you know who you are, remarked I used both Henry and Harry in regards to Tris's second uncle. I'm sorry if this has confused some people but Harry is a pet name for Henry, I have an uncle Henry who everyone calls Harry. In later chapters, this difference in names will, hopefully, show the different relationships the Prior family have. I understand this may be more confusing but I really don't want to give spoilers away.

And so, on to the next chapter...

* * *

Chapter 17

Tris paced the room for the umpteenth time, lifting objects every so often and inspecting them closely before replacing them.

"You need some new shit," she huffed to the man sitting in a large armchair, his hands folded on top of a notepad on his lap, waiting patiently for her to settle, a small recording device on the table beside him.

"Tris, are you going to sit down?" he sighed, his voice smooth and calming.

Tris knew his voice helped with his job, but sometimes, it annoyed the hell out of her. This was one of those times.

"Geez, Jack, did they train you to talk like a sex line operator in shrink school?"

Jack smiled to her. "Had a lot of experience with sex lines, have you?

Tris smirked back as she flopped down into the large overstuff couch. "As a caller or an operator?"

"Either," he grinned back to her, knowing the answer.

"Nah, that stuff doesn't work on me."

There was silence again for a minute as Tris rested her head against the back of the couch, slouching down a little, all the time knowing Jack was watching her and evaluating her.

"Am I done yet?" she asked eventually, slipping her hand into the front pocket of her jeans.

"Nobody makes you stay here, Tris. You know that."

Tris stretched out her other hand and picked at a thread on the cushion at the end of the couch, desperately wanting to get up and walk out of the room, but knowing it wouldn't make a difference.

"Shall we pick up where we left off last time?"

Tris exhaled loudly, showing her annoyance but nodded nonetheless.

"We were talking about college, I believe," and when Tris gave a small nod, he continued.

"It must have been difficult for you, being so young and surrounded by all those older kids."

"I wasn't that young," Tris countered miserably.

"Tris, you graduated Harvard when most are starting their freshman year. With a triple major, I might add."

Tris shrugged, down playing her intelligence.

"Why do you think you acted the way you did in college?" he asked suddenly.

"Why not just give me a hard question?" she muttered low before she shrugged. "I don't know, you're the psychologist. I was the hardcore slut, remember?"

"Is that what you think?" Jack queried, writing something down in the pad.

"That's what I know," she answered quickly, sitting upright again and leaning forward. "What are you writing?"

"And why were you like that?" he probed, ignoring her question and throwing back his original one.

"Fucked if I know," she breathed out, settling against the back of the couch again.

"Tris..."

She looked at him and then stood again, resuming her pacing. "Seriously, Jack. You need to change things up in here."

Jack didn't answer her, he just watched as she walked nervously around the room. They'd had this discussion before, but after what happened the other night, he felt they needed to touch on this sore topic again.

Tris knew he was watching her, and eventually, she turned to face him, leaning against a cabinet. She regarded him for a moment.

Jack Kang was an elegant man, tall and always immaculately dressed, he oozed confidence and composure. He had a friendly, open face with warn brown eyes in oval sockets. His jet-black hair was short but not regimentally so. He wasn't bulky, or stocky, his body healthy but not over toned.

"Control," she answered finally. "I need to have control."

She again watched him as he again jotted something on the notepad.

"I'm not twisted," she continued in a rush. "I don't crave what he did to me. I crave the need to forget what he did to me."

"Do you ever think of that man as a person with a name?"

Tris quickly shook her head.

"What name springs to mind when you remember him?"

Tris began to pace again. "Nothing. I don't think about it."

"Tris, the key to these sessions working is being honest. With me and yourself. You know that. And those days when your parents died, they changed your life forever. You can't tell me you don't occasionally think about it."

Tris had come to a stop by one of the large windows that looked out across the green expanse of the estate, and she could make out the lake in the distance. "He doesn't have a name, he's a faceless person. I can't..." she stopped herself from saying anymore, shaking her head trying to erase the images in her mind.

"Okay, Tris," Jack said sympathetically. "Let's go back to my original question."

"I don't know why I did what I did, Jack. I guess sex has been my therapy," she told him as she turned and headed back to the couch, this time perching on the wide arm rest at one end.

"Control?"

"Yeah, it's all about control. Taking back what I lost."

"Tell me, Tris. In your sexual experiences, have you ever let anyone dominate you in bed?"

"No," she answered all too quickly.

"What about during sex games? Do you restrain your partner?

Tris shrugged one shoulder as she answered with a smirk, "Yeah."

"Do you let them tie you down?"

"Fuck, no," she replied.

"Why?"

"Are you shitting me? You really want me to answer that?"

"Giving up control means you trust your partner," Jack offered, watching her closely.

Silence fell over the two of them as Jack let her think on what he just said.

"Do you trust Four?" Jack probed.

"What?" she asked, surprised by his question.

"Tris, you would trust Four with your life if you were out on a mission together, wouldn't you?"

"Of course," she answered easily.

"So, why can't you trust him in your bed," he threw back at her.

Tris was silent, her mind buzzing with his question. "I trust him," she whispered almost inaudibly, "I trust him completely. I know he won't hurt me."

"Tris, I can't imagine what you went through," Jack said gently. "And I can sit here until the end of time and try and help you to move on, but only you can do that."

He watched as she sniffled, so far managing to hold back the tears he knew were lurking in her eyes, knowing he wouldn't see them. He never did. Tris usually did her crying in private, not wanting anyone to see her weak side.

"Even by giving that control to Four, you still have some say in what happens. All you need to do is say no, and he'll stop. Try a safe word if that would work better for you."

"It's not just that," she murmured. "I'm scared."

"Scared of losing control?"

"Scared that I'm..." she stopped.

"What?"

"That I'm falling too deep."

"Do you love him, Tris?" he asked, his eyes boring into her, and Tris squirmed under his scrutiny.

Again, Tris was up and pacing the room. "I can't explain it," she answered quickly, her hands moving just as fast as if they would help get her point across. "When I first saw him… I don't think I can articulate what I was feeling."

"Try," Jack pushed.

Tris searched her mind for the right words. "To see a stranger for the first time, and for them to immediately become a part of you, it's overwhelming. And that feeling, it hasn't changed. It's only getting stronger. I can't imagine my life without him, and that scares me."

"Why?"

"Because… because… I can't love him, Jack. I can't condemn him to a life with me when I'm not a whole person."

"What makes you think you aren't a whole person?"

"Oh, I don't know," she cried sarcastically, "maybe it's all the scars on my body that remind me every day of what was taken from me; violently taken by a rat bastard who still lives while my parents are in their graves? Oh, or maybe it's the fact that every time Four tries to do any of that restraining stuff, I freak out and use my abilities against him so that I have the upper hand again?"

Jack watched her intently as she ranted to him. When she was quiet again, she almost deflating into a chair opposite, and he pushed again asking, "During that time in your parent's house, did your captor always use restraints?"

"I'm not talking about that," she answered curtly with a sharp shake of her head.

"Maybe it's time you did," Jack probed gently.

"This meeting is over," she said abruptly as she stood and strode quickly to the door.

"Tris!"

"I said no, Jack. Why can't you get that through your fucking head?" and she was through the door and quickly moving down the corridor before Jack reached the frame.

"Tris," he called after her to no avail as he watched her dash from view.

…

Tris lifted her hand again and brought the large bottle to her lips, taking another long gulp of the white liquid.

"Now that's classy, drinking straight from the bottle," she heard.

"Fuck off, Christina," she answered, not bothering to turn her head.

Tris listened as Christina collected a glass and joined her on the couch. "It's a sad thing to drink alone, Tris," the other girl said, taking the vodka from her hand and pouring some in her tumbler. She noted that Tris was drinking Vladimir's pure Russian vodka again and that was never a good sign.

"What are we drinking to?" Christina asked as she handed the bottle back and lifted her glass to her lips

Tris shrugged. "Because it's a day ending in y. As good an excuse as any."

Christina looked at her friend, knowing what this was truly about. Tris hadn't needed to deal with the things that had happened to her in a while, and in true Tris fashion, she had swept it all aside. Now with the need to reveal the information to Four, all those feelings had come rushing back, and as usual, Tris had hit the bottle.

"You know," Tris started as she turned her head to Christina, "It's times like this I wish I could get drunk more easily."

Christina laughed. "You are the only one I know who wishes she could get drunk."

Tris took another long drink of vodka as Christina swallowed the rest in her glass. Tris leaned over slightly and sloshed more liquid into the now empty tumbler.

"We're gonna need another bottle," she sighed as she drained the last drop.

"Did you drink all of that?" Christina asked, pointing to the empty bottle.

"No," Tris exclaimed. "You've just had some."

"Shit, Tris. It's a wonder you aren't dead."

Tris gave a snort of laughter. "Ain't that the truth?"

"Hey, I didn't mean, you know, about what happened, and all…"

"Don't sweat it, Christina," Tris laughed as she stood, one arm outstretched as if to keep her balance and then she shook her head. No, she wasn't unsteady yet.

"I know what you mean," she continued as she moved over to the bar and placed the empty bottle on the wooden top. She ducked down behind the counter, searching the shelves.

The Dauntless had a well-stocked bar covering every drink a person would need, but one member, Miguel, had a particular taste for an extremely pricey and well-aged whiskey.

A couple of years ago some of the younger members had consumed three bottles of this whiskey during a game of _Never have I ever_ , so since then the bottles, with a price tag of nearly $3000, had been placed under lock and key in its own cabinet under the counter. Miguel had one key and Tris, because she shared his love of excellent whiskey, had the other. But right now that was up in her room and too far away.

"Damn it, I knew I should have brought the key with me," she grumbled to herself as she moved bottle after bottle.

Christina's head suddenly appeared from above the counter.

"Whatcha looking for?" she asked.

"Seeing is Miguel left a bottle of whiskey somewhere," Tris answered.

"Babe, you know I can't drink too much of that," Christina moaned.

"It's not for you. You can stick to the vodka," Tris mumbled, and she tossed another bottle of the alcohol up to Christina, hoping the girl would catch it, and that the bottle would not hit her on the head on its way back down. That would seriously put a damper on her planned evening to get totally trashed.

"Shit, Tris," Christina called out, her fingers only just clasping the bottle.

"Christina," a stern voice called. "You do realize you are showing everything you have to whoever passes this room."

Christina turned her head quickly at the voice and grinned. "Well, it's a good thing it's just you, Tori," she laughed. "Unless you are planning on switching teams?"

"Ha, hardly," Tori shot back, moving across the room. "I've only just got Zeke to open up to me. I'm not about the change my affiliation now." She looked quizzically to Christina leaning over the bar top. "What are you doing?"

At that moment, she heard a hard rattling followed by a string of expletives that made her ears burn. She, too, leaned over the bar and looked down on Tris's head as she shook the locked cabinet again.

"Fucking dick," she whispered.

"Hey Tris," Tori smiled and Tris looked up.

"Hey Tori. Oh, can I borrow a bobby pin?" Tris asked.

Tori looked skeptically at her friend, but nonetheless, reached for a pin in her hair and handed it over.

"Thanks, babe," Tris grinned and went back to attacking the cabinet.

Christina moved back from the bar top, vodka bottle still in hand and returned to the couch.

"Grab a glass, Tori," she instructed as she flopped down. "We are helping Tris celebrate a day ending in y."

"Why?" Tori asked, collecting a glass and following Christina.

"Yes, y."

"No, why are we helping her celebrate?"

Christina lowered her voice and moved closer. "We aren't. Do you really want her to drink alone in her present state of mind?"

"I can hear you bitches, ya know," Tris voice floating over the bar.

Tori understood Christina now and held out her glass for her share of the alcohol.

"Fuck," Tris swore from her place in front of the cabinet, the bobby pin digging into her palm again as it slipped from the lock she was trying to open.

"You ok?" Tori called to her.

"Never better," she mumbled sarcastically.

Christina and Tori looked to each other, both worried for their friend.

"Maybe one of us should get Four or Caleb," Tori said low.

Tris stood quickly, her eyes flashing at the two on the couch. "Don't you fucking dare," she warned, her voice low and dangerous. She stared at them for maybe a few seconds more than she needed before returning to her arduous task.

"We can handle this," Christina whispered to Tori.

Marlene entered at that moment, spying Christina and Tori drinking and the bottle between them.

"You're having a party, and you didn't invite me?" she asked, her voice showing her hurt.

"Totally spontaneous thing," Tori answered quickly.

"Go grab a glass," Christina finished.

Marlene squealed and dashed to the bar just as Tris stood.

"Ah-ha," Tris exclaimed gleefully, a bottle of Michter's Whiskey in her hand.

Marlene jumped and shrieked loudly when Tris appeared. "Holy shit, Tris," she cried, a hand on her chest.

"What?" Tris asked innocently.

"You scared the shit out of me," Marlene explained.

"Sorry," Tris said with a wrinkle of her nose, looking at the tall blonde.

"Are we drinking vodka or whiskey because I don't think I can drink both?" Marlene asked as she returned to the couch opposite the one Tori and Christina were comfortably seated on.

"Drink which ever you want," Tris answered as she followed, picking a glass up on her way. "But this beauty is mine."

"A little possessive there, Tris," a new voice called and four heads turned to see Lynn barrel into the room.

"My contraband. My alcohol," she informed the newcomer as she uncapped one bottle and poured the liquid.

Marlene watched Tris fill the tall glass she had chosen, as Lynn flopped onto the couch beside her. Her eyes flicking to Christina and Tori, and at Christina's small shake of her head, she held her own tumbler out for Christina to pour the alcohol into.

"You guys were drinking without me," Lynn whined, reaching out the snatch the glass from Marlene's grasp and take a swift drink.

"You're never around these days, Lynn," Christina noted standing from her seat and moving to get yet another glass.

The short girl was training to be a member of Dauntless and worked in the control room of the units as well. She was a pretty girl, but did everything she could to obscure that fact. Her hair was short, so short you would think she was bald and she wore clothes that covered her figure. Her face was hard and sharp but everyone knew this was all for show. When she let her features relax, there was a softness about her that shocked those who'd never seen it.

Lynn huffed at Christina. "When I'm done with my training, my schedule should lighten up. At least, I hope it will." At this, she turned to look at Tris who had settled herself on Marlene's over side, not listening at all to what the other girl was saying.

Christina handed Lynn a tumbler with a short measure of vodka in it, and Lynn looked at her with a worried concern over their friend. At Christina miniscule shake of her head, Lynn relaxed back, handing Marlene's glass back to her and taking a sip of her own drink.

Half an hour later, all five girls were giggling, the vodka was over half gone, and Tris was nearly halfway through her precious whiskey.

"Okay, so, why do men always name their penises?" Christina asked the group seriously.

"Because they don't want a stranger making 90% of their decisions for them," Tris replied glibly, then watched as the others collapsed into fits of laughter.

"I'm not joking," she added, her tone deadpan.

"It's true," Christina chuckled as she wiped at a tear that had fallen with her mirth.

"So, what is Will's called?" Marlene enquired, leaning forward in her seat a little.

"Harry," Christina answered with a smile, and Tris giggled.

"Harry?" Tori quizzed, her eyes shooting between the other girls. "Why is that funny?"

"Happy Harry Hard-on," Tris told her between her giggles. "It has to be one of the most commonly used names."

Christina huffed at Tris before turning back to Tori, "Well, what about Zeke?"

"I haven't slept with Zeke yet," Tori informed then sharply.

"Oh, girlfriend," Christina groaned loudly. "You have seriously got to nail that and soon."

"Excuse me," Marlene chimed in, maybe a little louder than she expected. "I do not want to have a conversation about who Zeke is sleeping with, or what he calls his John Thomas. The Pedrad's are like my brothers."

"Is that what he calls it?" Tris asked Marlene with a smirk.

"How the hell would I know," Marlene returned. "God, this conversation is weird," she concluded, draining the liquid in her glass and reaching for the vodka again.

"What about Four's?" Christina asked Tris with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"I'm not telling you that," Tris said as she shook her head.

"Ah, come on, girl," Christina moaned. "You're not playing fair."

"Okay, I'll tell you what he used to call it. It's been renamed since it met me," Tris grinned to the girl she considered her best friend.

Tris giggled again as the four girls all leaned eagerly toward her. She quickly drank a mouthful of whiskey and then smiled to them. "He used to call it Captain America."

Again, the four girls looked at each other and then fell into a fit of laughter.

"And now?" Christina probed, hoping Tris had tipped her alcohol levels enough to share.

"Not gonna tell you, Chrissie," Tris repeated with a grin as she refilled her glass with the amber liquid.

"Can we talk about something other than boy parts," Lynn asked with a wrinkle of her nose.

"Sorry, Lynn," Christina giggled. "But boy parts are a lot better to talk about than girl parts."

"Do girls name their girl parts?" Tris asked Lynn, her brows raised in question.

"None that I've met," Lynn provided.

"Maybe we should," Marlene slurred.

They all sat for a moment, clearing thinking on this.

"No, not happening," Tris finally said and they all burst into laughter again.

Once they had settled again, Marlene rubbed her stomach and muttered, "God, I'm starving."

Tris bounced from her seat and half leapt, half slid over the bar top, landing surprisingly gracefully on the other side.

"How the hell do you do that with all that alcohol swirling in your body?" Tori exclaimed, her eyes wide in wonder. She turned back to the others. "She should be passed out by now."

"Natural talent," Tris grinned from beside Tori, making the raven-haired woman jump at her sudden closeness.

"Shit, Tris," Tori breathed out. "That's not cool."

The girls chuckled again as Tris tossed the packets of bar snacks on the low table between them.

Lynn reached for a packet of pretzels, opening them quickly and grabbing a handful, and shoving them into her mouth.

"Now that's attractive," Christina groaned.

"Bite me," Lynn replied around a mouth full of food.

"Speaking of biting," Tris started as she grabbed a jar of macadamia nuts before she turned to Marlene. "Is it true you screwed Vladimir after our night out?"

"What?" Marlene exclaimed, looking at her friends, and they all waited not-so-patiently for her answer.

"Enquiring minds need to know?" Tris probed.

"Jealous?" Marlene asked, her brow rising in question.

"Hardly," Tris snorted. "While I admit Dimi is quite the lover; I mean, he certainly knows how to please a woman, I'm afraid he falls short compared to Four."

"Ohh," Christina grinned, scooting to the edge of her seat a little. "Do tell us more?"

"Nu huh," Tris answered, matching Christina' grin and then turned back to Marlene, waiting on her answer.

"No," Marlene relented with an over-exaggerated sigh, and Christina sighed loudly, too, and then fell form the couch, landing hard on her ass, which caused Marlene and Tris to burst into laughter again.

Tris looked over to Lynn when the room was filled with a loud snore.

"Wimp," Tris giggled, tossing a few of her nuts at her sleeping friend.

An hour later, Tris was the only one still awake. Christina and Marlene had both passed out within minutes of each other, leaving Tris and Tori to converse quietly in the room accompanied with the intermittent scoring of one or two of their friends. They had chatted for another half hour before Tori fell asleep as well while Tris was hunting for more snacks. Tris had finished the last of her bottle of whiskey in silence, watching over her closest friends with a sense of lost she hadn't felt in a while.

She now stumbled down a corridor in search of Four and was feeling blissfully drunk.

She pushed open the door to the room she knew he was in and smiled to see him sitting opposite Caleb and Will with Uriah beside him.

She practically fell into the space, giggling uncontrollably as she staggered over to her lover and collapsed into his lap.

"Take me to bed and fuck me until I can't think straight," she whispered loudly in his ear.

"Can you think straight now?" he asked her, concerned about how drunk she was and the amount of alcohol it had taken to get her into this state.

"God, you're good," she answered seriously, a smile on her face.

"Tris, what have you been drinking?" Sean asked from the other couch.

"I broke into the whiskey stash. Ssshh, don't tell Miguel, it's a secret," she told him conspiratorially.

"How much did you drink?" Four asked when she laid her head as his shoulder and she shrugged slightly.

"Maybe a bottle," she replied as she yawned. "And a bottle of vodka."

"You drank that all by yourself?" Four questioned loudly.

"No. Marlene, Tori, Lynn, and Christina were there," she told him.

"And you let them share your whiskey?" Caleb queried with a smile.

"Fuck no, they had their own. But they're pussies," she giggled.

"Why?" Will asked, laughing with her.

"Because they've passed out, and I'm still awake," she answered sitting straight up. "I'm awake and horny, Four. What are you gonna do about it?" she grinned as she brushed her hand against his dick.

Four moved her over onto his lap and then stood, holding her tight to him as she wrapped her legs around him, her lips fastening onto his neck.

"Come on, Blondie. Let's get you to bed before you pass out yourself," Four replied, truly believing she would be asleep before they made it to their room.

"No way, Loverboy. No sleep until I'm sore and stated," she mumbled against his neck.

"Ok, Babe," he laughed as he moved to the door.

"Wait," she stopped him. She turned her head back to Will and the others. "Can you guys make sure my girls get to bed?"

"Sure, Tris, you go and do whatever you are going to do," Will smiled, waving her and Four away.

"We are gonna go and screw like there is no tomorrow," she told him with a smile. "Right, Four?"

"Whatever you want," Four returned.

Tris beamed over to the guys. "See, whatever I want."

Four shook his head at her and wondered if she would remember this in the morning.

"Good luck, Four," Uriah called as he moved through the door, and Tris attacked his neck again.

Four laughed, silently thinking he was going to need it.

…


	18. Chapter 18

Hi Everyone! Just a quick authors note before we start.

First, and foremost, thanks, as always, to you lovely readers who are still reading and supporting this fic. Lots of love and hugs to you all, you are amazing. And - Yay- this had made 100 followers - I feel so honored.

Second, I have to admit; this is not one of my better chapter. So I apologies in advance. I just hope you can all forgive and don't lose faith in my story.

Third, to my guest reviewers, thanks for your comments, as always, I love to hear your thought. And to Bamcn24 a special thank you. I like that you appreciate the mental health side I've brought to this.

And last, I need to point out to those of you that don't know that this story is very personal to me. Tris's emotions, feelings, and **some** situations have been my own, and the writing of this story has been a kinda panacea for me. I'm honored by your words of encouragement and some PM's I receive from readers with more personal feelings to this piece of work. So thanks to everyone out there for reading and enjoying.

And so on to this mediocre chapter...

* * *

Chapter 18.

The morning light flittered gently across Tris's face and, even though her eyes were closed, she whimpered slightly.

"Hey, Blondie," a soft voice called, "How are you feeling?"

Tris slowly turned her head on her pillow, moving her body slightly and rolling onto her stomach, her face turning to Four but her eyes remaining shut.

"Like I've been hit by an 18-wheeler," she groaned, her tongue darting out to moisten her dry lips, and she swallowed thickly.

Four chuckled softly at her words. "Yeah, I bet you do after the amount of alcohol you consumed last night."

Tris lifted her heavy head from the pillow, one eye opening to look at Four, then she moaned and lowered her head again.

Four chuckled again at the sight of her seriously wild hair and sleepy, hung-over expression. "Come here," he told her and smiled when she scooted over in the bed, snuggling as close to his body as she could get, her left arm falling over his stomach and her head resting on his chest.

Four sighed at the feel of her flesh pressed closely to his, his own arm lifting to caress hers were it lay over his body. When he finally got her to their room last night, he tried to talk to her and find out the reason she crawled into a bottle – or in Tris's case, several bottles. He knew she and Jack met earlier in the day, and he deduced they had probably spoke about her parents' deaths or the events surrounding that tumultuous time in her life.

But Tris being Tris had distracted him as only she could and he was a weak man, succumbing to her charms after a battle of wills. He knew he would eventually have to get her to talk and let him in emotionally, as well as physically. So far, she had restricted him to the physical realm, and while he was content with this for the time being, he knew their relationship couldn't last in the long run if she kept hiding her emotional self.

Tris closed her eyes again as she settled against his bare chest, her mind whirling with images of their wild adventures last night.

She moved her hand from his waist and rubbed her behind gingerly. "Did you spank me last night?" she asked, her voice unsure.

"I do believe I did," Four answered her with a smile on his face as his own hand moved down to slowly caress her backside. "But only because you'd been extremely naughty and bit me on the ass."

Tris giggled again as visions of their nighttime activities invaded her mind again.

Surprisingly, she remembered most of the evening in spite of the amount of alcohol she consumed. She recalled removing the dressing which covered his new tattoo and wiping the area gently with a cloth to rid the design of the small accumulation of blood that gathered there.

She recalled Four trying to talk to her about her session with Jack and why she was so drunk, but she soon stopped that when she took him into her mouth.

She also remembered the moment he managed to move her under him and every time their hips clashed together, their tattoo's met and matched their counterpart on the other body perfectly.

She relished in the knowledge he intentionally placed his mark in that particular spot just so this could happen…that his feelings for her were probably just as strong as hers were for him.

She desperately wanted to tell him in that moment: To tell him she was falling too deeply for him, but the words didn't come. And as she came undone beneath him, she had an innate feeling he felt exactly the same way.

"What are you thinking?" Four whispered, bringing her attention back to this moment.

"I need to get up and shower or I'm gonna be late for work," she lied.

"Tris, you're one of the bosses. I'm sure you can be late," he answered, his hand roaming up from her bottom to her back and back down in long, gentle strokes.

"I'm not sure what my schedule is this morning," she returned, but she moved over him so she laid completely on top of him, her lips curling into a smirk. "Shower with me?"

"Do you really need to ask?" Four grinned to her, his hand lifting to stroke her hair.

Tris wriggled a little, lifting her body until she was sitting, her knees landing on either side of Four's hips. And then she groaned loudly, her hand moving to hold her sore head.

"Oh my God," she whimpered. "Now I remember why I actually enjoy being able to hold my liquor."

Four laughed at little as he struggled to sit up, too. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her to him as he swung his legs free of the comforter and out of the bed.

"Let's have that shower, and then I'll let you let me drive your Bentley and take you into work."

"Oh you will, will you?" she chuckled against his skin as he carried her into their large bathroom. "That's mighty magnanimous of me, don't you think? You know, if you want a new car, you can have one."

Four paused before entering the large shower, his eyes meeting hers as he spoke. "I don't want you to buy me things, Tris," he told her.

"Four, I won't be paying for it. The Dauntless will. And even if I was paying for it, what's wrong with that?"

Four lowered her to her feet so her toes were firmly planted on the cold tile before he reached for the many knobs that operated the shower.

"I don't expect you to buy me things," he ground out, a little harsher than expected. "I have a job. I can pay my own way."

"Fine," Tris retorted as she moved quickly under one of the shower heads, then wished she hadn't as the floor seemed to move dangerously. She wobbled a little, and Four reached for her quickly.

"You okay?"

She nodded hastily, then groaned again, her hand lifting to hold her head again.

"Here, let me help," Four said low and moved closer to her, his hands weaving into her hair, smoothing the strands. "Do you want me to wash your hair?"

Tris nodded slowly. "Thanks."

Four kissed her forehead as he reached for her shampoo.

"So, do we need to talk about last night?" he started softly as he massaged her hair gently, inhaling the floral scents that wafted around the shower.

"What do we need to talk about?" she answered timidly, one hand reaching out to rest on the tiled wall to steady herself.

"About why you felt the need to drink WAY too much alcohol? Tris, it's scary the amount of liquor needed to get you drunk."

"Don't I know it," Tris grumbled.

"Maybe you should have your liver checked," he half-joked.

Tris waved her hand dismissively to him. "We have physicals all the time, Four. If something was wrong, it would have flashed some lights by now."

Four reached to grab the detachable shower head and gently rinsed her hair of suds, and Tris went quiet.

"Tris?"

"Mmh?"

"Are we gonna talk?"

Tris moved closer to him and took the chrome nozzle from him and flashed him a flirtatious smile.

"No, Tris," he said firmly, determined to stand his ground this time, and turned her around again, repeating his shampooing actions.

"You're turning down sex?" she asked incredulously.

"Not at all. I just think we need to talk, and whenever we try, you flash that sexy smile, and then things get out of hand, and we are fucking instead of talking. We need to talk about what happened to you."

"We will, Four," she answered almost dejectedly, knowing he was right. "Just not in the shower. Later. Is that okay?"

Four moved her wet golden hair to the side so he could place a gentle kiss against her neck. "Okay, as long as we do."

"We will," she agreed, though she was already thinking of ways to wangle out of that conversation.

…

It was late…or early…depending on who one asked, and Tris was pacing the room she and her friends had occupied earlier that evening. She looked down at her watch and noted it was nearly 2am, and she resumed her pacing.

The night had started off as any regular night would: A fabulous meal cooked by Greg followed by a little snuggling with Four as they relaxed with their friends, watching re-runs of Family Guy.

Then she had waved Four off as he departed with Zeke to go on their first mission together.

Now, four hours later, everyone had retired to their rooms and she was nervously pacing.

"Will you relax, Tris? You're making me feel ill," Caleb moaned as his eyes followed her from his comfy spot on the couch.

"It's late, Caleb. They should be back by now."

"They will be back when they are back," Caleb answered her dismissively.

"Thanks," she shot back sarcastically. "You're a great help."

She moved over to the couch he was sprawled on and flopped on the opposite end.

"Something is wrong," she said with a shake of his head.

"Nothing is wrong," Caleb replied as he tipped his head back and threw another chocolate into the air and caught it in his mouth. "Zeke will make sure your boy toy makes it home in one piece."

"Will you stop calling him my boy toy?" Tris groaned and caught the next candy as he launched it into the air. She dropped it into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

"And stop eating all my M&M's, too," she added, reaching over and grabbing the packet from him.

"Hey, I thought they were for everyone," Caleb moaned as he watched her pop a couple more of the sweet treats into her mouth, her eyes lingering absentmindedly on the couch opposite them.

"They'll be ok, Bea. You know that," Caleb countered. "You have never been this jumpy before when a new agent has gone out."

Tris turned her head to her brother and gave him her ' _are you shitting me'_ look.

"Four is a little more than a new agent, KK," she returned, using her old pet name for him. Apparently, when she was learning to talk, she couldn't say Caleb and he'd become KK to her.

When he didn't answer her, she turned to see him watching her intently.

"What?"

"You really like this guy?"

"Well, yeah," she shrugged.

Caleb smiled to her, "So, when's the wedding?"

"Hey, let's not get hasty now," she laughed. "Let's at least get through a few months together."

There was silence again as Tris munched on a few more M&M's.

"Milan seems to have agreed with Uncle Harry," Caleb observed as he watched her eat the candies.

"Yeah," Tris grinned. "And my new shoes certainly agree with me."

"Do you think it's time for me to come back to The Group?" he asked her, his voice shaking slightly with uncertainty.

He knew the only reason Tris worked so hard in The Prior Group, was because he had failed to live up to the family's expectations within the business world.

When their grandfather, Theodore Prior, decided to take a step back from running his multi-billion-dollar company, he divided the shares and responsibilities between his sons. Henry and Mason each received 33% of the shares while Andrew, the eldest son, was given that all-important one extra share, making him the head of The Prior Group.

After Andrew's death, his 34% was divided between his children: Caleb and Tris, both being given an equal share so one didn't preside over the other. While Tris continued her higher education, Caleb was all too happy to learn the ropes in the family's legit business and Caleb excelled at his position within The Prior Group,

He had a job where he could jet around the country, sometimes even internationally, and for a year or two, Caleb had truly enjoyed himself. Then the late nights clubbing and working within Dauntless had crept up on him, and one day, he simply hadn't been in the office. That day stretched into two and then a week. After a month, Tris had to tell her brother he no longer had an office within the group, and to be truthful, he hadn't been too devastated. After a private conversation with their grandfather, he handed the majority of his shares to her, keeping 1% back for himself at his grandfather's request.

Now Mason, Henry, and Tris ran the group together with Tris letting Uncle Mason take the President role, though all three signatures were needed on all documents and agreements, and Caleb kept that all important last share, stopping one person from having complete authority. Nevertheless, Tris knew if anything happened to Caleb, it would come back to her, and she would be in control of the group.

"You know, if you're serious, you could come back," she said to her brother. "But you do know that will mean you have to be in the office by 9am every morning, and sometimes, we have meetings that run over, and you won't be out until seven or eight in the evening."

"Really! That sounds like shit, Tris," Caleb moaned as he settled himself further into the comfy couch.

"And then, of course, there are nights when you have to go out on a mission, but you are expected to be all bright and cheerful the next day at the office."

"Fuck that, Tris. I don't know how you do it. Maybe I'll just go on vacation."

Tris laughed. This was not the first time they'd had this conversation.

"Yeah, a vacation would be the way to go. We could go to the French Riviera. We haven't been there in, like, forever," Tris said with a smile, warming to the subject.

"That's because we were _politely_ asked to vacate our rooms after the manager found you in that rather compromising position with the Prince of whatever country he came from."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," she returned with a wistful smile. "And I'm sure there were other contributing factors leading to our dismissal."

Caleb raised his eyebrow at her as he asked, "Do you really need me to answer that?"

Tris giggled, having a slightly disturbing memory of singing something completely inappropriate rather loudly in the middle of the hotels oh-so-sophisticated lounge area.

"So maybe we won't go back to that hotel. I'm sure there are plenty of others," Tris said.

"Sure, Bea. Just like the good old days" Caleb grinned.

Tris laughed out at that. "God, Caleb. You make it sound like we are so old. It was only a couple of years ago."

"Yeah, and a couple of years makes a difference. A day makes a difference."

Tris nodded, understanding what he was saying.

Again, the room fell into silence until Tris suddenly stood up.

"That's it. I'm going to look for them," she said as she moved toward the door, returning to their original conversation.

"You can't, Tris," Caleb returned, jumping from his place on the couch and dashing over to stop her leaving the room.

"Why not?" she asked, her eyes narrowing at him.

"You've got to trust him," Caleb replied, his hands falling onto her shoulders.

Tris huffed. "I do. It's the others I don't trust."

"Well, trust him to do his job."

"Caleb," Tris warned, shrugging his hands off her. "Don't make me hurt you. I'm going to look for them."

"Tris, you don't even know where they are," Caleb stated as Tris pushed him away from him and stalked from the room.

"I can't just sit on my ass and do nothing," Tris returned sternly.

"But it's such a cute ass," she heard behind her and turned quickly to see Four and Zeke strolling down the hallway as if they were taking a walk through the park.

"Where the fuck have you been?" she practically screamed at the two of them.

"Working," Zeke answered with a wry smile as he and Four walked closer to her.

"Funny, Zeke," Tris scoffed.

Tris looked intently at Four, making sure he didn't have any physical injuries, her hands wandering over his body, checking for wounds.

"Hey, Tris. Maybe you should do that upstairs," Caleb countered, and he moved closer to the trio in the hall.

Tris ignored her brother as she held Four's face between her hands. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Tris. Everything went to plan," he reassured her, wrapping his arms around her. This felt good. It had been a long time since anyone had been worried for him, and even longer since that person was someone who he cared about.

"Good, good," Tris answered, nodding her head crazily. And then she wacked him on his arm. "You little fucker! Next time, call me when you are through. I was all concerned and shit."

"Owww, Tris. That hurt," Four moaned rubbing his arm as Caleb and Zeke laughed under their breaths at him.

"Pussy," Zeke coughed.

Tris whirled round to the shorter man. "And you, Zeke Pedrad. You knew that I'd be worried, and you didn't call me," and she repeated her sweeping hit on his arm.

This left only Caleb to laugh at the two grown men being chewed out by his small, delicate but deadly, sister.

"And you," Tris spun around to him, poking him hard in the chest. "Stop eating my M&M's."

…

Mason Prior was a proud man, an elegant man, and always suspicious of others, despite who that other person was. And as he looked across his mahogany desk at his younger brother, he felt that familiar bubbling of uneasiness that always plagued him when he was around his brother.

The truth was Mason Prior wasn't a real Prior. He had been found, abandoned on church steps, by Gabrielle Prior wife to the influential business tycoon Theodore Prior during her one of her daily visits to the building. Gabrielle immediately fell in love with this small scrawny baby and begged Theodore to adopt him. After complications with the birth of their first born son, there were doubts whether she would be able to conceive again, so Theodore relented. He always spoiled his wife and could refuse nothing she asked.

Mason grew up within the opulence that was the Prior lifestyle, unaware of his adoption. He hadn't been an easy child to raise. He was unruly and had a tendency to be cruel. It was during his rebellious teenage years that he learned the truth about his adoption while overhearing a conversation between his parents when he was 16.

After searching for several years, he finally gave up on looking for his birth mother. There were no records of his birth. From that point on, he was determined to be the best of the Prior brothers, Henry Prior being a miracle pregnancy and born six years after his adoption. His behavior settled slightly, though he still had a streak of evilness within him that surfaced when he felt the need to hold onto something he though was being taken away from him. Of course, no one knew he wasn't truly born a Prior: only his brothers and their parents.

The morning sun blared brightly through the tall, wide windows of his office at The Prior Group, which was previously the office of his older brother.

He changed the room completely when he had taken over the office, moving most of Andrew's furnishings into his old work space, which was now occupied by Tris. The rich mellowing blue tones which had graced the walls when Andrew was in charge were now a dark red, the deep color of the wood furniture accenting the walls well. He had soundproofed his room after several confrontations with his niece. In his opinion, he feared she was attempting to make him deaf with the high decibel level she played her music throughout the workday.

"So, things went as planned in Milan?" Mason asked his brother.

"Yes, Mason," Henry returned. "The D'Soroia Consortium is pleased to be under our wing now."

"Good," Mason countered.

"And how are things working out with the new agent?" Henry questioned. He liked to be in the know with what went on with The Dauntless but generally left the running of it to his brother. Henry was too much like his elder brother, Andrew, and he didn't really have too much input with The Dauntless.

"Four is definitely his father's son," Mason returned cryptically.

"Marcus Eaton was a good man," Henry observed, though there was a pain in his eyes when he said this.

Mason gave a snort. "A foolish man, more like."

"Why do you say that? Because he wanted to protect his son? I don't think that is foolishness at all."

Mason smirked at Henry. "Do you really think that was the only reason Marcus left?" he asked.

"Why would you say that?" Henry probed, his curiosity peaked.

"Marcus Eaton is a complicated man. His words say one thing, but his eyes say another," Mason said cryptically.

Henry noted a gleam in his brother's eyes, almost in admiration for the trait he was describing.

"So, Tris and Four are pretty tight," Henry said, steering the conversation away from Marcus.

"Please Henry, use language that denotes your age. And yes, they have become extremely close, extremely quick."

"And you don't approve," Henry noted with a slight smile.

"Tris should not get so involved with him. You know there are rules within Dauntless regarding relationships, and as a Prior, she should respect them."

"As I understand it, they were close before he became an agent," Henry continued. Over recent years, he had seen a change in his brother. As this happened around the time of Andrew and Natalie's death and the despicable things their niece had endured, Henry thought it was a reaction to those events. But as time moved on, Mason seemed to hardened more and more, as though he was a child and someone had taken his favorite toy away.

"Tris gives her body over too easily," Mason huffed.

"She's young," Henry reasoned. "Young people are impulsive."

"She's a Prior," Mason returned sternly, "and she should act accordingly."

"Tris has never acted like she should, and she never will. That is part of her charm," Henry smiled fondly.

"And given her history, it astounds me she acts the way she does," Mason continued.

"Everyone copes differently, Mason. Don't judge her. She's a good person. She works hard for The Group and The Dauntless. She has proved herself time and time again."

Mason studied Henry for a moment before saying, "She seems to be getting stronger with her abilities."

"Really?"

"Yes, she's already at a level which outranks any of our agent, past and present, by a long way. Four has the potential of being a great asset as well."

"So these two could make a formidable team," Henry observed thoughtfully.

Mason thought on what Henry had said. Yes, Four and Tris would probably make an exceptional team, but why change things? Caleb and Tris worked just as well together. But secretly, he hoped Caleb would finally come into his own and work harder to out-match Tris, despite his lack of divergent abilities.

He was hoping Caleb would prove himself worthy to take over The Dauntless, because it would break his heart if he had to leave it to a girl. He need someone who could be molded to his own way of thinking.

…


	19. Chapter 19

Hello and happy Wednesday to all you lovely people out there.

Thanks, as usual, for all your continuing support with this story and for the amazing PM's I've received over the last week.

Sorry for the huge author's note here but I needed to reply to a review that was left by a guest.

I'd love to reply privately to _'Concerned'_ but since I don't have that option it will have to be here.

First, let me thank you for your review. Good or bad I love to hear what the reader thinks. In response to your comment: **_Firstly, Tris, in any iteration, would never refer to herself as a slut._ **_**She is one of the strongest characters in any series, and she would be empowered by her strong will and the choices she makes despite the things that happened to her, and turn them around to her advantage. Calling herself a derogatory name inherently undoes all of those good qualities she exudes, whether you realize it or not**. _ This my version of Tris and she will say whatever I want her to say. I agree completely that she is a strong character and it's because of that strength that she can look at parts of her life and _poke holes_ in her character. Whether you realize it or not, sometimes strong people do things they are not completely proud of and being able to recognize that and learn from those experiences only builds character. There may be many out there who think she wouldn't say those kinds of things, but those thoughts are based on VR's version of Tris Prior, not my reincarnation of her. Like I have said before, there are parts of me in this Tris and I certainly look at myself has overcoming devastating situations and think I'm stronger because of them, but I'm not above looking back at darker times and learn from mistakes made. It is your prerogative to have your opinions but you can't know what is in my mind, and therefore not completely know what is in this Tris's mind – that I understand is my fault as a writer for not illustrating her thoughts correctly, so while I disagree with your opinion there, I thank you for pointing out the error in my writing.

Next thought: _ **Next, Four would never sleep with Tris in such an intoxicated state. Again, I know this is AU and the characters here aren't exactly "normal", but this also goes against everything that is inherently Four. Canon, AU, whatever, he's not that character that only thinks with his dick. He's a strong man, a strong leader, and would never do anything that would hurt Tris**. **And despite what you may think or what may have happened to you, taking advantage of someone in that state is never right.**_ This thought is echoed by a few readers and, again, I respect everyone for their opinions. Four IS a strong man and a strong leader, but again, this is my version of him. I agree completely that taking advantage of someone should NEVER happen…EVER! I'm not sure I can respond to this without digging myself in deeper but, drunk sex is a real thing, whether both partners are drunk, or just one. I don't see it as taking advantage if one partner wants to have sex while drunk and the other isn't drunk. If that person is being forced into it, that would be different but this wasn't the case. People do have flaws and I guess this is one that not everyone appreciates. I understand there are others out there who think differently and I apologize profusely if I have offended anyone. As you can understand, I have personal knowledge of both these situations so I know a difference.

 ** _And then you also have the "man doesn't trust a woman because an ex had an abortion" trope, which is just wrong on so many levels._** I'm sorry if I offended you with this notion but this _'trope'_ is based on a friend of mine. It's obviously an issue of his and doesn't equate to the majority of people out there. A woman has a right to do what she wants with her own body, but this storyline has not been fully revealed yet, and to say more on this issue will spoil the plot line.

Lastly: **_I hope you read them and take them into consideration, use them to learn, make a better storyline that doesn't have to resort to name calling and tropes. You have a great idea and some great writing skills, and these things just make you come across as immature._** Again, I have to thank you for time you took in your review of this story, but I believe my storyline is pretty good as it is: the name calling will probably continue and who knows what tropes will pop-up. Is it really name calling when you are saying it about yourself? And the immature comment just made me smile.

I don't say these things to seem immature or mean, it's just how I feel. Everyone has a right to their own opinion and I thank you for letting me know yours. I'm sorry if I sound like a bitch or whatever, but if you have so many _'concerns'_ about this fic – why are you still reading it?

On that note I'd like to say to all my readers I'm sorry if I've offended anyone with anything that happens in my story, that's not my intention. My only intention is to tell a story, a story that is not all rainbows and unicorns, but one that deals with real issues, which a side of fantasy, of course. :)

One last thing: Just a heads up but I'm gonna be changing my penname during the next week so look out for The Dauntless with some other penname next week :)

* * *

Chapter 19

They moved through the backstreets of downtown Chicago with an effortlessness that belied their uneasiness.

Things were not going as planned, and Tris was pissed.

Tonight, Tris and Caleb had teamed up with Four and Zeke to take down the notorious head of a crime ring which specialized in kidnapping and selling children into slavery. This time, the plan was to make a gift, so to speak, as they were to take him in to the C.P.D., and Four was beyond excited. There was a task force within the police specifically created just to capture this man, and so far, there had be a huge lack of progress, and to have Serrelli delivered to them, well, he could imagine their reactions.

Mason had been given a tip-off regarding the movements of this pond scum, and in response, he sent his best agents out to bring this evil man down. But if things continued the way they were going, the police department would not be getting their Dauntless express delivery anytime soon.

The evening started off well. The small group found their target and moved in, Tris taking point, as usual. That was until Four felt he needed to protect his girlfriend and moved her behind him.

Of course, Tris was having none of that and was soon ahead of them again.

"Tris, would you just get out of the way?" Four hissed sternly to her, trying again to push her behind him.

"Four, let me handle this. I've been doing this a lot longer than you have," Tris returned, her eyes blazing.

"No. It's too dangerous, Tris," he answered with a shake of his head. Four knew she could take care of herself, and others if need be, he just had this uncontrollable urge to protect her, shield her. This, he presumed, was the fallout from learning about the suffering and lost she had been through. His natural protectiveness had kicked in and he wanted, no, needed her to be safe and happy.

"For fuck's sake, Four!" she hissed, getting angrier by the second. "Don't make me shoot you."

"Leave her be, Four," Zeke interjected, his hand on Four's arm as he pulled his partner's fingers from Tris's. "She knows what she's doing, just trust her, okay?"

"But…,"

Four didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as Tris turned her full body onto his much larger one and slammed him against the wall of the dingy alley.

"Bear, let me do my job, okay? You go with Zeke," she said with a smile. She knew using her pet name for him would be the way to tell him they were good but he needed to back off. For a moment, her mind flashing back to their first meeting, and them being in this position against the wall in the alley behind the club.

"Come on, Tris," Caleb whined, his eyes dashing back and forth between them, becoming bored with this battle of wills. This was a mission, not a Sunday walk in the park.

"Go," she told Four, pushing him gently in the direction of Zeke.

"But we're supposed to stick together," Four responded, unbelieving that she would want to split the group up. They were better as a team.

"Then stay behind and learn how to take orders," Tris answered sternly. "This isn't about the bedroom, Four. It's about work, and the two can't cross."

"I think it's too late for that, if you ask me," Caleb observed mockingly.

"Nobody asked you, ass wipe," Tris ground out, refusing to take her eyes from Four to glare at her brother.

"Yeah, and it's not just about the bedroom, either," Zeke added with a smirk. "I mean, for you two, it's about anywhere you can get it on, right?"

"Will you two shut the fuck up?!" Tris whipped around quickly on the two other men beside her, her eyes blazing as she moved away from Four. "For Christ's sake! I'm working with a bunch of fucking idiots."

Four smirked at Caleb and Zeke, pleased that he wasn't the only one on the receiving end of Tris's anger and frustration.

"You know," Tris continued, headed back down the alley in the direction they were initially going before Four attempted to protect her. "It's a miracle Serrelli doesn't know we are coming from the noise you ladies are making."

The three men looked at each other, each pointing to the other as if to say, – it's your fault, – and Tris shook her head again, a smile threatening to escape from her lips at the antics of her boys.

They continued down the dark alley and out onto a partially lit street, and after she swiveled her head a couple of times, first checking up the street and then in the other direction, Tris quickly moved off down the sidewalk, the guys following her silently.

"How does she know which way to go?" Four asked Caleb in a whisper.

Caleb simply shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea, but I've learned to trust her instincts."

They entered another alley, moving further away from the bustle of the downtown area and into the poorly lit area. Four slowed, feeling a sudden wave of uneasiness.

"Tris," he cautioned, his hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah, I know. I feel it, too," she returned as Zeke, Caleb, and Four moved to stand beside her. Tris's eyes narrowed as she strained to look deeper into the darkness of the backstreet.

The sound of the gunshot echoed like the crack of a whip through the night air, and the four figures scattered, each searching for cover from the unknown gunman.

"Shit," Tris ground out from where she was hunched behind a pile of crates, pulling her PPK from her shoulder holster, holding it close to her body.

She looked back to see each of the guys in their various hiding positions, her eyes meeting with Caleb's and asking him silently what had gone wrong.

Caleb met her gaze and shook his head. He was at a loss, too.

"You know," a voice called through the alley, "you shouldn't be walking these streets without protection."

Tris huffed. Like she needed protection.

"I don't need protection," she returned, and she could just imagine Four's disbelieving look at her brazenness. She smiled, in spite of herself, at that thought. Her body was pumping with adrenaline, and she practically bounced on her heels wanting to get the action going.

"And what do you think we are?" Caleb's voice rang out in disgust, and Tris laughed loudly at his tone.

"The flying monkeys," she retorted before she could stop herself.

A small noise behind her made her pivot on her toes, her smile falling quickly. With her body still low, her eyes scanned the area behind them, the blonde hairs on the back of her neck sprang to life.

"My spidey-senses are tingling," she said out low to the others and watched as Four, too, turned to look behind him.

"Take the guys out first," another voice drifted down the alley to their position. "And then we can have some fun."

Tris shuddered at those words, her mind transporting her back to her parents' dining room, but she refused to be affected; to let them get the better of her.

Tris laughed out loud at his threat. "When you're man enough," she shot back. She saw a slight movement, and in the next heartbeat, her hand shot out, her finger squeezed the trigger of her small gun, and one of the men fell half a second later.

There was silence for a minute, then a harsh voice yelled, "Bitch, you'll pay for that."

"Yeah?" she teased. "You and whose army?"

"Tris," Zeke said gently. "Don't taunt the bad guys. Remember what happened last time?"

Tris turned her eyes to Four and grinned. The last time she had been foolish enough to provoke a target, she had almost been shot, but could she really complain? After all, she had found Four, or had he found her?

The next gunshot took them by surprise, as it came from the behind them, and Tris dropped to the ground, narrowly missing the bullet as it whizzed over her, just where her head had been a few seconds ago.

"That was a little too close, Blondie," Four's deep voice filled the air, and Tris lifted her eyes to his, to stunned to move completely. She swallowed back her acknowledgment that he was right, only nodding her head slightly. She really must learn to hold her tongue, or her sarcastic remarks and comebacks would get her killed eventually.

"Time to move," Caleb informed the others and Tris was up on her feet again, weighing their options.

She knew she had taken out someone in front of them, but she was unaware just how many people they were dealing with. And would the men behind them be willing to risk taking out one of their own in front of Tris and her small band of not-so-merry-men?

She figured not and boldly stood, quickly moving into the alley and stalking forward toward the multiple guys in front of them.

"What the fuck? Tris!" Four called out, unbelieving that she would be so stupid. Or daring. Either way, it looked like she was on a fast track to getting herself shot.

"Does she have a death wish or something?" Four ground out to Caleb before he, too, stood and made his way over to the small blonde, cautiously moving down the alleyway in her footsteps.

"I'm beginning to think she does," Caleb returned as he copied the other two, filing that though away to discuss with his sister when they were safe at home. Zeke just swore as he, too, followed his fellow agents into the darkness, blindly trusting Tris's instincts to get them through unscathed.

They moved as one toward the group of people at the end of the alley, Tris grinned when her analysis of the situation was correct. The group behind them was too concerned about shooting their own to aim at the four figures moving toward an exit.

Unfortunately, the group in front didn't hold the same worries and gun fire erupted around them. They scattered again, and Tris turned quickly into a side alley, praying her friends and family would find cover, too.

She heard the pounding of feet behind her and turned, her arm outstretched, gun in hand, and ready to shoot. "Shit, Four," she gasped. "I almost shot you, you dick."

"Now that would have been a downer on our sex life," he replied with his trademark smirk as he jogged closer to her, and Tris laughed. When he stood in front of her, she clasped a hand around his neck and pulled him to her in a searing kiss.

Four responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her, and delving deeper with his tongue in her mouth. His body became wired, more alive, the blood rushing loudly within him with the thrill of the chase and this spontaneous, if ill-timed, kiss.

It was the cold metal of the barrel of her gun as it grazed his cheek that brought him back to the moment, and he reluctantly pulled away from her.

"This is SO not the right time for this, babe," he grinned down to her and at the nonchalant shrug of her shoulder, he chuckled before turning her around and pushing her back down the alley in the direction she was heading when he interrupted her.

They rounded another corner only to be confronted with Zeke and Caleb in the midst of a fist fight with five or six other guys.

Four and Tris turned to look at each other. When Tris grinned, Four shook his head. Only she could find the prospects of a fight exciting and entertaining. Then, as one, they entered into the fray.

The four Dauntless agents seemed to effortless work together as they fought with the enemy, setting hits up and using each other to their advantage.

Caleb nodded once to Tris and crossed his arms over his body as she leapt toward him, her right foot landing on his crossed arms, her left leg close to her body. With the added boost from her brother, Tris sprang higher into the air, her right leg pushing off Caleb's arms and whipping out with added force in a roundhouse kick, smashing into the face of one the biggest guys there, sending him sprawling to the ground, not moving, as she landed gracefully beside his prone body.

"I have a sinking feeling this is a set-up," she smirked to her brother, her enjoyment of the added danger all too obvious, and Caleb nodded back, his expression not quite as joyous as hers.

Four dodged a punch and swung his body around to throw the deadbeat, who was currently driving his fists into Zeke's side, off his partner and into the dirt.

"Are they always this pumped at the prospect of dying?" he asked Zeke, tipped his head in the direction of the siblings as he helped him to his feet.

"Wait until the real fun starts," Zeke returned glibly as he dodged another hit, throwing one of his own, twisting his fist to add more force and pain to the point of impact in his opponent's gut.

The mêlée continued with the four agents taking out some of these obvious gang members, who were clearly not the associates of a crime circle they had been looking for. But it seemed whenever one of their opponents went down, a couple more took their place.

Caleb watched, while attacking another foe, as Tris and Four coordinated perfectly with each other. They moved as if they had done this together for a lifetime, each seeming to know where the other was and using that to their advantage. Caleb was more than aware he and Tris worked like that, but he also knew they had been training together for years to become the well-oiled team they were. With Four and Tris, it seemed natural, as if they were one person split in two.

Four whipped around at the surprise exhale that came from Zeke and watched as his partner dropped to the floor. Four quickly dispatched the man who was currently beating on him and rushed over to his partner, his eyes searching the fight for Tris. His fingers groped at Zeke's neck, and he sighed with relief as he felt the steady thump of Zeke's heart, happy that although he was unconscious, his partner was alive, a serious lump forming on his temple. At the same moment, he caught a glimpse of Tris's golden hair as she used the bulk of one man to push another one off her, bringing her opponent down with a thud on the hard concrete.

She stood immediately, her gaze meeting his, and she winked before turning, snapping her elbow and then her fist into the face of the next man who thought he could take the small girl down.

A few minutes later, and Caleb fell to the ground, his hand rising to his waist line and blood spilling between his fingers.

"Caleb!" Tris called out, her eyes wide in panic, and Four turned as she tried to rush to her fallen brother.

The two guys beside him used his hesitation to their advantage, with one executing a kick to the back of his legs, causing Four to fall forward onto his knees and the other punching him hard in his back. Four fell forward into the dirt.

"Four," Tris whispered, ignoring the pain and familiar feeling of a knife slicing at her arm as a huge man grabbed her around her waist, lifting her from the ground. She kicked out with her legs, fighting a battle she was beginning to think she may have lost.

A hand wrapped around her neck, and she quickly bent her head, biting hard at the hand, and smiled when the man yelped and almost dropped her.

Her grin grew when she saw Four push himself up onto his hands and knees, a moan escaping his lips. At least he was awake.

Two goons beside him pulled him back by his hair so he was kneeling, and his eyes flashed to Tris, making sure she was okay. He almost laughed as he watched the two large men struggling to keep her at bay.

The fighters all held their positions, believing they had the four agents under control, but they were ready to spring into action at any given moment if not. A new figure walked into the group of people clicking his tongue at the damage done. This small group of four had taken down some of his best fighters. He was tall with a scruffy beard and a casual, nearly congenial manner, evident by the way he smiled at his comrades. It contradicted his dark under-handed dealings and evil nature.

"Dying is a messy, bloody, ugly thing," the scruffy man in front of him gloated to Four, and his eyes lifted to Tris, who was still being held tightly between two burley men. "Man, you don't want me to kill you in front of your bitch?" he whined good-heartedly.

Tris answered his remark with a smirk as she blew a kiss to him, her eyes laughing. The gang leader gave a snort of laughter, astounded by her arrogance and cheek.

"Four, honey," she drawled, her voice sugar sweet. "Do you mind if I take out the trash?"

"Go for it, baby," Four answered her, his own lips twisting into a smile.

"Remind me to thank you when I get you home," she answered, her eyes flashing to meet his once again.

Their opponent watched in disbelief as the two, who were very much contained by his men, exchanged pleasantries as if their lives were not about to be snuffed out. Though, looking at the girl, he thought he might keep her around for a little longer.

His expression quickly changed when the air seemed the crackle with electricity, and the two guys holding onto Tris were pushed back, as if hit by a great force, and Tris answered his remark to Four with a quick, double roundhouse kick, hitting his face twice with all the force her abilities could muster, which sent him sprawling to the concrete, out cold.

The surrounding gang members looked down in disbelief at their fallen leader then back to Tris to see her looking casually at her nails.

They seemed to rush at once, forgetting Four, who was still on his knees, all heading in on Tris. She moved at the last minute, springing up and into a back tuck, clearing them easily as they charged at her, some colliding comically with each other as she landed firmly upon her feet, a mocking grin crossing her lips as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

With one look to Four through the crowd, she nodded and turned in her heel, heading back down the alley, her blonde hair flying behind her as she pushed the air with every step to make her faster than those pursuing her.

Four soon dispatched the few gang members left with him, and looking around the dank alley, he bent down and hauled Caleb to his feet.

Caleb's eyes snapped open at the feeling of his body being lifted, and he looked straight into Four's deep-whiskey orbs. Then the pain in his side hit him.

"Shit," he howled. "That bastard stabbed me."

"Yeah, and unfortunately, you'll live," Four retorted quickly, and he moved Caleb over to the side of a one-story building, hoping the man would truly live through this.

Caleb's head moved, his eyes searching the alley. "Where's Tris, Four?" he asked, his voice taking on a seriousness Four rarely heard.

"Saving our asses," Four returned, hardly keeping the anger out of his voice.

Four looked up to the flat roof of the building, and Caleb followed his eyes.

"No way, Man," Caleb laughed out. "Not a chance in hell."

"We need to get up to higher ground so we can see where they are coming from. And to call for back up," Four explained, his eyes glancing back to Zeke who was still out on the ground.

"How the fuck do you expect me to get up there?" Caleb asked, bewildered at what Four was suggesting.

"I expect you to haul your ass up onto that ledge there."

Four moved closer to the wall and cupped his hands together to make a foothold for Caleb, hoping Caleb would be able to find some deep strength to push past the pain.

"I've been knifed, Man! I'm bleeding here," Caleb reminded him.

"Yeah, that means this is gonna hurt like a bitch. Now come on, you're wasting time while Tris is out there somewhere being chased by some fucked up shitheads. And I swear, Caleb, if anything happens to her because you are whining like a girl about climbing a small wall, I will string you by your balls to the nearest tree."

Caleb swallowed nervously, his hands automatically moving to cover his genitals, as if to protect them, and his eyes glazed over at the vivid imagery of Four's cruel words.

"Caleb!" Four bellowed, and Caleb moved, gritting his teeth as he placed his foot into Four's waiting hands. Four pushed up at the same time Caleb almost jumped out of his cupped hand, his hands reaching up. Caleb let out scream of pain as his knife wound pulled at the movement his fingertips grasped the concrete of a wide ledge.

He hauled his long body up, sweating with the effect as he rolled on to the ledge. A grunt and a groan of pain escaped his lips as the impact ripped through his body, vibrating around his bones and the wound at this side opened more.

"You okay?" Four asked him.

Caleb mumbled his affirmation, and Four moved quickly to lift the still unconscious Zeke onto his shoulders, all time wondering how he was going to get the other man onto that ledge, never mind higher onto the roof.

"Caleb," he called up, "you need to lean over and grab Zeke's arms."

"Are you trying to kill me?" Caleb voice filtered down.

"Yes," Four snapped back, "slowly and painfully. Now shut the fuck up, and help me."

Four had an innate feeling time was running out. He needed to find Tris and quickly.

He watched as Caleb's hands appeared over the ledge and inched lower, then Caleb's head became visible, and Four winced at the obvious pain he saw etched onto Caleb's face.

Four somehow found the strength to lift Zeke high above his head, now believing those tales of how adrenaline could make your body do miraculous things. Caleb grabbed ahold of Zeke's hands and pulled with all his strength, howling out in pain as he pulled Zeke up beside him, Four pushing Zeke's legs, then feet, upward.

Four then hauled himself up onto the ledge, and they repeated the whole process. Four's muscles began to protest, but eventually, Caleb and Zeke were on the flat roof, and Four still standing on the ledge.

"Call for back up," Four instructed Caleb as he turned, ready to jump back down.

He saw her just before he leapt to the ground, running flat out toward them, though not knowing where the rest of her team was.

He vaguely heard Caleb on his phone, giving their location to the dispatcher, as his focus shifted from Tris when he caught the glimmer of metal, illuminated by a street light, and his heart almost stopped. A gun. And she had no chance escaping it.

He reached for his own, then remembered he had lost it during the fight earlier.

With no time to turn and ask for Caleb's, he flattened himself down on the ledge and blindly reached out his hand. Then, somehow, Tris's hand was suddenly in his open palm, and he clasped tightly, lifting her easily off the ground, swinging her up, around, and behind him.

"Hey, Bear. That was close," she whispered huskily against his ear, but he could feel her smile against him as she seemed to wrap herself around his back. Her breathlessness was making things surprisingly tight below the waist. How the hell he could be thinking about sex in that moment amazed him, but when she placed soft a kiss against the nape of his neck, he almost blew a load right there.

The group of men gathered below, the man who Tris had knocked out only now coming to and struggling to stand. They hurled vulgar insults up at the two on the ledge, threatening all kinds of gruesome, painful deaths as Caleb crawled nearer to the edge of the roof, his gun ready, just waiting for the command.

Tris pressed her own weapon into Four's hand, as if knowing he was without his own.

Four smiled his thanks, thinking she had another stashed on her body somewhere.

Tris turned her head to Caleb and flashed him a grin. "Good you see in you in the land of the living, KK," she quipped.

"Yeah, well, didn't want you to have all the fun," he returned, equally happy to see her alive.

Tris nodded once before looking back at the group of six or seven men below them, each trying to find a way up to them, and she laughed.

"Is Zeke okay?" she asked Four, her hot breath against his ear.

"He's alive," Four answered.

Tris looked back down to the group below them, one of them a few moves away from reaching them.

"On the count of three boys," she said, and the guys below looked up stunned and puzzled at her words.

"One..."

She stood from her position at Four's back.

"Where's your gun?" Four hissed, and his stomach turned when she smiled down to him and winked.

"Two..."

Before Four could say anymore, Caleb started firing, so he followed automatically as he watched Tris jump from the ledge into a somersault, twisting her body in the air. On her way down, she manipulated the air, moving aside the jacket of the leader of this now almost dead gang, and her hand slipped in undetected to take his gun from the hidden holster. When she landed in front of him she flicked off the safety, the man stunned at having his own gun staring him down.

"Three," she finished sweetly and pulled the trigger.

…

Four jumped from the ledge, his eyes glancing around at the bodies lying haphazardly around Tris in the dirty ground.

"This whole thing stinks," she finally observed after a moment's silence.

"What?" Four asked.

"Serrelli wasn't here and never was," she told him, moving around the men, tapping one every so often with the tip of her boot.

"Yeah," Four agreed, his palm rubbing the back of his neck where the hairs had stood earlier that evening.

"Which means they were out for one of us," Tris concluded, her eyes finally closing in on Four.

"And they knew where we were," Caleb added from the top of the roof.

"Shit," Tris spat out. "I knew this was a set up."

Four looked toward Tris and then up to Caleb, his expression one of concern. Had one of them been a target themselves? Was there someone out there trying to take one of them down? And who was helping this unknown enemy by sending them here in the first place? That was the worst thing: knowing someone within Dauntless had to have known about this.

The next body that Tris tapped with her foot groaned, and she bent down, grasping his chin in her hand and roughly turning it to her.

"Who sent you?" she asked harshly.

"Fuck you, bitch," the deadbeat answered, blood oozing from a split on his lip.

"Wrong answer, fucktard," she returned, bending her knee up slightly before pressing it down on his chest, half kneeling on him. Her hand reached down, applying pressure on the gunshot wound in his thigh, causing the man the scream out in agony.

"Who sent you?" she asked again, determined and through clenched teeth.

"The Easter Bunny," he replied, his lips twisting into a sardonic smile.

Tris glanced up to Caleb and then back down to the man beneath her knee.

"Hey, if you want to play, I don't give a shit. I have all night," and she held her hand out and called out, "Caleb?"

Four looked up to Caleb, wondering what was going through the siblings' minds as they almost communicated silently, and he watched Caleb move slowly, painfully. And then an object was flying through the air, and Tris caught it without looking or moving from her position atop this dirty, huge bulk of man. He nearly laughed. She looked impossibly small against the built figure, but it was obvious she was the one in control of the situation, and he wondered if that was how others saw their relationship.

A glimmer beside Tris brought him back to the moment, he registered that the object was a knife, which Tris deftly opened with a swift flick of her wrist.

She dragged the knife over the guy's clothing, easily splitting the material, then lay the cool metal against his skin.

"So, are you gonna tell me what I want to know, or do I get creative?" she asked sweetly, her outwardly firm voice contradicting the turmoil she felt within her at what she was about to do. But she couldn't back down, not now, not in front of this scum bag.

"You don't have the balls," the man below her gloated.

Tris snorted at that, and Four had to admit her resolve scared the shit out of him.

"I may not have the balls, but I know all about torture, so..." she didn't finish her sentence or give him a chance to tell her anything as she sliced delicately into the skin along the ribs of his right side, resisting the urge to close her eyes. She had to detach herself from what she was doing and what needed to be done as she was not willing to back down or ask Four to take over. She had started this, and she would finish it.

The guy screamed out in pain as the knife dragged along his skin and Tris snickered, covering her need to bite back the bile that rose within her at the sound of his scream.

"Looks like we have a screamer, boys," she gulped, covering her disgust with a smirk as her eyes caught the blood on the metal of the knife, and Four felt like he was going to vomit. He truly could not believe she was going through with this, knowing some of her history about what had happened during her parents' brutal murder. As he watched her with the knife, skillfully slicing through the giving flesh, he knew her takeaway from her own torture wasn't only the memories, and he expected rape, but the most effective way to slice someone open just enough to cause them pain but not enough to kill them straight out.

"Ya know," she continued, almost conversationally to the man she was torturing, "all the times I was cut up by a crazed bastard, I don't ever recall screaming." She shrugged a shoulder, "I guess some are just stronger than others, despite what lays between their legs, huh?"

Four moved over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, knowing how hard this must be for her, and he hoped he could give her an out if she needed it.

Tris shrugged his hand off her, her eyes swinging to his once, and she almost gave in. She very nearly handed him the knife, silently asking him to do want she couldn't, but she steeled herself. She had to do this.

And she moved the knife over a little, lifting it higher and pressing the point just below her captive's right nipple.

"So, who sent you?" she probed, a dazzling smile on her face.

The man turned his head to Four. "This is getting you all hot?" he asked with a sneer. "Watching your girl on top of me, sticking me with a knife?" And he turned his head back to Tris, "Because it's definitely doing something for me."

Tris swallowed nervously as, indeed, she did feel him harden where her leg was placed between his thighs, her knee still against his chest.

When the man laughed at her uneasiness, Tris steadied herself. She was in control, not this dickwad, and she, again, reached down to grasp at his wounded thigh.

His scream ripped through the night again, and Tris wondered if she could actually follow through and torture this man until he told her what she needed to know.

She sliced against his chest again, this time a little deeper, and pushed the molecules around the area to intensify the pain. She looked down at the wounds she had created and was instantly transported back to an opulent room with rich green walls that were splattered with blood. The smell of the plasma oozing from the man beneath her seemed to overwhelm her. It was as if the memory was intensified 100% in that moment, and she wasn't exactly sure if it was because of the coppery aroma that was currently overwhelming her senses or the one she lived with for over a week eight long years ago.

She swallowed thickly, lifting her eyes, not seeing the brick wall but instead the walnut china cabinet her mother had filled with porcelain adorned with a delicate pattern of green vines.

The guy was panting with pain now, and Four felt the building need to turn his back on what his small, delicate girlfriend was doing, but he didn't, he couldn't. He knew she wasn't enjoying this, and that comment from the shitbag must have stirred the memories within her regarding her own torture. He had to remain strong for her, a part of him repulsed by what she was doing to this man, but knowing it was necessary and she was in no way having fun.

"Black," the man suddenly shouted out, gasping for air as the tip of Tris's knife brushed against his skin once more.

Tris stopped, looking into his eyes, her eyebrow raised.

"It was a bounty from a dude named Black," he hissed out.

"Who?" Tris asked urgently.

"What?" came a strained replied.

"Which one of us?" she probed.

"I don't know," he breathed out, grateful she had stopped the movement of her hand and that the cool metal of the knife was only resting against him instead of digging into his flesh. "Only Edgar knew."

Tris looked at the unmoving bodies around them, and her eyes fell on the huge man she had shot, obviously the leader of this now practically extinct gang.

The man chuckled a little. "Don't think you'll have much luck getting anything from him, sugar tush!" he grinned as blood bubbled from his mouth.

Tris moved back, stumbling a little as she scrambled to get off him. She reached for Four's arm as he shot one out to help steady her, and he pulled her away.

They stood looking at each other for a minute, before Tris turned from him quickly, her dinner making a reappearance as she vomited beside one of the bodies sprawled out on the ground. Four gently rubbed her back, as her body expelled all it could, until there was nothing left but her dry heaving.

She unsteadily lifted her arm and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, turning back to Four, with tears in her eyes, her throat raw with the acid taste of bile and her stomach still a little queasy. As he took in her slight body shaking, he was again concerned about the effect this torture was having on her.

Tris collapsed against him, deflated, the moment seeming to overcome her, and breathing hard, she let out a sob. Four wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, his eyes lifting to Caleb, who was still perched on the roof. He could see the fear in her brother's eyes, and Four rested his head atop hers as she returned his embrace, her arms moving around his waist and holding on tightly.

After a moment, he moved her back, a hand to her face so he could look into her eyes, the other on her shoulder so she couldn't run from him.

"You okay?" he asked, the concern evident in his voice making her feel weak.

"No," she returned simply, not needing to hide from him.

"We will talk about this, right?" he probed, not wanting to push her but needing her to know she would talk about what had just transpired.

Tris nodded, but her eyes were distance, glazed, as if she was replaying something in her mind.

"Promise me?" Four pushed.

She nodded again, her gaze refocusing on his.

"Say it, Tris."

"I promise," she whispered.

"Absolutely promise?"

"Absolutely promise," she answered with a weak smile, knowing this time she would do as he asked.

Four nodded, his hand moving from her shoulder and slipping down the sleeve of her jacket. That's when he noticed there was blood covering it, and that the dark splotch appeared to be growing. His fingers slipped into gash in the material and came away with blood on the tips.

He looked at her with concern in his eyes, and she brushed him off with a wave of her hand.

"I'm fine, Four," she answered his unvoiced question, her voice unsteady. "It's just a flesh wound."

"That's a shitload of blood for a flesh wound, Tris," he returned sternly, pulling on her jacket to remove it from her.

Tris needed to get a hold of her emotions again, so she did what she did best when she was uncomfortable. She grinned at him. "Can't wait until we get home, eh?"

"Jesus, can't you keep your mind off sex for one minute?" Four mumbled low with a shake of his head, bewildered that she could go from an almost breakdown to thoughts of sex in less than two seconds.

"You can't tell me that with all that adrenaline pumping through you right now, you couldn't get down and dirty," she quipped back, her mind finally becoming clear, then she winced as he dragged the jacket from her arm.

"Later, Tris," he answered with a smirk, though he did not look at her. He knew there was a huge chance of falling into her trap if he gazed into her hypnotizing eyes again, and then who knew what would happen? So he intently studied the gash on her arm, which appeared to be maybe an inch or so deep, and it was oozing blood.

"A flesh wound?" he asked, raising his eyebrow at her, finally looking at her, and she answered him with her trademark shrug and cheeky grin.

He shook his head, again amazed she could switch her emotions so easily.

At the sound of a vehicle entering the alley, they both turned, their eyes narrowing and both praying it wasn't the cops.

Just to be sure, without turning her head, Tris said low, "Move back, Caleb."

She knew he would obey, and they would have a gun on the roof should they need it.

She breathed a sigh of relief as Amar climbed from the vehicle. Cleanup was here, and she could relax. She slumped against Four again, suddenly drained of all energy as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. They both pondered the same thing: Who was this Mr. Black and which member of their team was he after?

…


	20. Chapter 20

Hey Guys! Hope you are all good this fabulous Wednesday.

A quick, very warm welcome to new readers, hope you continue to enjoy reading this not-so -story of mine. Thanks, as usual, to you all who continue to read and to those who have placed a favorite or follow on The Dauntless.

A special thank you to those who take the time to leave a review, no matter how small. To know that not only do you take the time to read, but to leave a comment, is like payment to me.

And last, I want to take a minute to thank the fabulous cjgwilliams who is now on board beta-ing this fic. Her thoughts, support, and encouragement are greatly appreciated and I'm sure my fic will benefit immensely from her involvement.

To my two guest reviewers: Thanks for your thoughts.

Now, on to chapter 20 …

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Chapter 20.

Mason looked with concern at his four best agents as they fidgeted on the leather couch in the library. They looked tired, despite the fact two of them spent time in units to heal their wounds.

The fire crackled in the library's fireplace. It wasn't a cold night, but Jack always liked to generate a calming environment for the de-briefing sessions, and he thought a burning fire helped create a soothing atmosphere.

Caleb returned from the mission with a nick to his liver, and he was immediately rushed into a unit for healing. The wound could have potentially been something a lot worse than it was, and he spent two hours in the unit to soak in its healing properties.

Zeke regained consciousness during the ride in, but he was suffering from blurred vision and an almighty headache. For him, the healing process had been a little different, and he had been fully submerged in a tank filled with the liquid, as it was the only way to deal with head injuries effectively.

Tris, as usually, was being a pain in the ass, refusing to sit in a unit for the simple cut to her arm.

Tori diffused the situation by soaking gauze bandages in the liquid and quickly wrapping them around her arm, causing the fluid to seep into her wound and work its magic. Tris then settled into Four's lap as they waited in Tori's office, as Tori was convinced Tris would immediately remove the bandages as soon as she was out of the doctor's sight, and she had fallen asleep against his chest.

Four wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to him, his head resting atop hers. He let her have this peace, knowing their teams would be grilled when it came time for the debriefing meeting in the large library.

She wouldn't be happy when they finally returned to their room, either, as he was determined to have her talk through what she had done in that alley. This was something he wasn't about to let go. And his hope was if she opened up about that, she might tell him more of what had happened during her imprisonment in her own home.

She whimpered in her sleep, and he made a soothing noise in her ear whilst stroking her back gently, lovingly.

"Was it bad out there?" Tori asked cautiously, her eyes flickering between the two in the chair and through the glass in the door to the unit room and to Zeke.

Four nodded. "It wasn't the best of evenings, that's for sure."

He watched Tori as she observed Zeke, her eye twitching every so often.

"Hey," he called to her, and she turned back to him. "He'll be okay, right? I mean, in that goop?"

"Yes, he'll be just fine in an hour or so," Tori reassured him.

"Then come and take a load off," Four returned with a slight smile. "Staring at him won't speed his recuperation up."

Tori gave a short laugh as she moved away from the door and over to the recliner she dragged into her office a few years earlier. It was a dull yellow with large red flowers all over, and it was ugly, but it had been her mom's, so….

Four looked down at the woman in his arms and gently brushed aside a strand of her hair which had fallen across her eyes. When he looked back up, it was to see Tori smiling.

"You're good for her, ya know?" she said, her voice taking on a hushed quality.

"How so?" Four asked, intrigued.

"She needs someone who won't let her have her way all the time. The guys around here, they tend to do that. They feel the need to protect her, and while I can see why they think that, they have to know she can take care of herself. I mean, she's probably ten times as dangerous and lethal than any of them."

"Yeah, and then some," he smirked back to the small doctor.

Four looked at Tori for a minute before asking. "Were you here when she was brought in, ya know, after..?"

Tori shook her head sharply. "No, that was before I came here. But I've read her file, and it's certainly not for the faint of heart. And that's only the physical side, not the psychological shit."

Four's eyes involuntarily wandering over to the large filing cabinet Tori had against one wall.

"I can't let you see, Four," she responded with a sad, knowing smile.

"I know," Four returned, turning his head back to Tori. "I don't really need to see it anyway. I've seen the scars."

Tori acknowledged her understanding with a slight incline of her head.

"Four, can I ask a personal question?" Tori queried and at his succinct nod, she continued. "Do you love Tris?"

It was a simple question, but Four felt his heart speed up until it was pounding erratically within his chest. His eyes involuntarily shifted down to Tris where she rested against him, and he just nodded.

Tori smiled at his non-verbal response. "Don't let her push you away," Tori told him, her eyes imploring him to listen to her and heed her advice. "She has this crazed idea that no one could love her, and as soon as those emotions become evident, she runs. Stand your ground, make her listen to you, and accept your love."

Tori giggled at little as she looked at her friend, resting against the body of this man. "It might get ugly, but please, if you love her, don't let her ruin this for the both of you."

"Has she done that often?" Four asked, not sure if he really wanted to know. "Pushed people who love her away?"

"I'm not really the one to ask, Four," Tori returned with a sly grin, "but I will say there was another, almost like you, and we thought he would be the one to settle her, but I guess she wasn't ready."

"And is he another agent here?" Four queried, always a glutton for punishment.

Tori just nodded at his question.

"Have I met him? Is it Vladimir?"

"No, he's away on assignment at the moment. But he could be back any time soon," Tori answered. "I just felt you should know, so it's not a surprise when he does come back."

"And she broke it off with him?"

"Yes. It wasn't pretty. They argued constantly. Finally, he asked for his assignments to be out of area. That way he's only around for a few weeks at a time."

Tori looked at him cautiously. "He took her relationship with Vladimir pretty hard, and that was just a casual thing. So, don't be surprised if he has a few harsh words for you when he learns your level of involvement with Tris."

"Why doesn't he just leave The Dauntless if he's so hung up on her?" Four probed, his hold on the girl in his arms tightening a little.

Tori shrugged. "This is his home, his life. He's been here for a long time."

Four understood that. The Dauntless was like one huge family, and it could become an intricate part of a person's life. He was learning this, and he had only been here for a couple of months, and he was sure that to leave would be like leaving your family and forgetting their very existence.

He realized what a huge choice that must be, and one his own father had made, though his thoughts on that decision were still unsettled in his mind. And yet, he ended up as part of Dauntless anyway; regardless of the fact his father moved them from Chicago and out of the state.

Four knew as he looked at Tris again that some things were just meant to be, and no amount of ex-boyfriends or scared girlfriends was going to alter that. He was here for the duration, and Tris would just have to deal with that. She wasn't going to run him off like she so obviously had her other boyfriends.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this," Tori's voice interrupted his inner thoughts. "I just thought you should know, and I know Christina won't tell you out of loyalty to Tris. Not that I'm not loyal, I just think you could use a heads up. I want you two to work out. You are a good guy, Four, and Tris deserves a good guy."

"Of course," Tori continued with a grin, "you hurt her, and I'll be forced to end your miserable existence in this world. I still have yet to find someone to use my bullet on."

Four beamed back to her. "Perfectly understood, Doc."

Tori shook her head at Four, completely seeing why Tris fell so hard and so fast for this man.

"Why don't you get some rest, too?" Tori suggested with a nod in the direction of her cot.

Four nodded and stood with Tris in his arms and crossed the room to the small cot. He sat down gingerly, trying not to wake the sleeping girl and then moved quickly onto his back, bringing her with him so she lay on top of him, her head on his chest. She muttered something in annoyance but soon settled when he caressed her back again.

He blinked up at the ceiling a couple of times, wondering if he craved his old, relatively peaceful, life. When Tris squirmed a little against him, he immediately decided no. He wouldn't change it for anything, despite the knowledge that Tris's old boyfriend could be re-entering her life in the immediate future.

He knew Tris felt something more for him than the fleeting emotions of a casual fling. He could feel it with every cell in his body. When they joined together in moments of passion, it seemed to him as if the world stopped moving, like everything paused, waiting for the two of them to become synchronized, become one, and when they did, the world rushed into motion again, the blood pumping in his body and his heart beating in time with hers, his vision became sharper, and he felt he connected with every fiber of her being.

It was even more than that; they connected on a level beyond sex, beyond the physical part of their relationship. The way they harmonized when they worked together in the alley, each sensing where the other was, knowing on an almost primal level how to kinetically connect: that was something pure, something honest, something undefined by him but understood nevertheless.

He only hoped it was the same for her, because it was something too beautiful and wonderful to not share with the person who created those moments with him. He made a mental note to ask her sometime.

Now, a few hours later, the four of them finished recounting the events of the evening and the failed assignment to Mason. This wasn't by far the first time a mission had failed, but it was the first time it happened to Caleb and Tris, not counting Four's initial target.

Mason sat in stony silence as he thought through the story the agents told him.

"I have to say," Tris's voice interrupted his internal thoughts. "This whole thing has left me unnerved. I don't like it. I don't like the fact that someone in Dauntless feels the need to eliminate one of its own. I thought we were a family."

"This doesn't leave this room," Mason told them sternly. "I don't want this leaking out to the rest of The Dauntless. If someone is out there targeting us, we need to keep it contained."

Tris shuddered, an uneasy wave rippling through her. There was something niggling at her, almost knocking on her consciousness, like she knew the answers they needed, but they were eluding her, dancing just out of reach.

Tris looked back up to see her uncle staring interestedly at Four. She turned her head, trying to see what had him so intrigued with the newest agent.

Caleb, too, saw his uncle studying Four intently.

"What?" Caleb asked, his head swiveling between the two.

"I'm just curious," Mason answered evenly. The older man switched his gaze from Four to Tris and then Caleb. "We've never had any problems within this organization or from any outside groups until recently."

"Wait a minute," Four interrupted him, standing from his seat beside Tris. "Are you saying _I_ had something to do with this?"

"No, I'm not saying that at all," Mason relented quickly, his eyes again swinging to Tris, and he almost squirmed at the intense look she shot back at him.

"Do you really think it was Four who set this up?" she asked her uncle disbelieving, the shock on her face speaking volumes.

Mason shook his head, "No, no. Of course not," Mason answered quickly, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'm only voicing what some of the others may think. Four is new here, and we have never been targeted by any other organizations before."

"Is that what you think this is?" Zeke asked, worried about this situation more than he would admit. "That some other organization is targeting us?" In a way, he hoped it was some outside faction that had placed a hit on one of them because, as bad as that was, it was ultimately better than knowing one of your own wanted you dead.

"What else could it be?" Mason replied.

"But the tip off came through you, Uncle Mason," Caleb interjected. "So, who was it?"

Mason glanced around the room, from the four agents in front of him to Doc Johanna, Jack, and Amar. They were each looking at him intently, as if he held all the answers.

"I don't know," he finally admitted. "To be honest, I was just glad we were finally closing in on Serrelli. I never asked for a name. We get anonymous information all the time. Why would I suspect this tip would be any different?"

Tris watched Jack in her peripheral version as he wrote something in his ever-present notepad, his eyes shifting to her as if trying to gauge her reaction to what Mason was saying.

"Maybe these tip-offs should be handled differently from now on," Tris suggested, looking directly at her uncle.

"Maybe," he consented. After a pause, he continued. "It's late. I'm sure you are all exhausted, so we'll leave it there."

With that, Mason stood, ending the meeting and walked purposely from the room with Johanna following him.

Tris sighed dramatically, "I hate this. I hate not trusting anyone."

Jack moved so he was standing in front of the four on the couch. "I need to schedule appointments for you all tomorrow," he said, his gaze shifting from Tris to Four to Zeke and then to Caleb before circling back around. "Four, Tris, are you both working in the morning?" he asked.

At their nods, he turned to Zeke and Caleb. "Okay, Zeke, is 10am all right with you?"

"Sure," Zeke answered, his mind obviously elsewhere.

"Fine. Caleb, is 1pm good for you?"

Caleb just nodded in agreement, his eyes on the fire burning bright in the fireplace.

"You two come and see me after work," he instructed Four and Tris, then turned to the exit before either of them had a chance to disagree.

"Do you really think it was someone from within that sent them after us?" Caleb asked once the door had closed again, immediately turning the conversation to what they were all thinking.

"We were in that alley searching for a target we had been informed would be there," Four stated. "I absolutely think that someone wanted us there."

"It's too convenient not to suspect that," Zeke added.

Caleb rubbed his hand over his face. "I guess," he acknowledged. "Shit, I need a drink." He stood from the couch and moved over to the door, looking back, half-expecting Tris to be on his heels. "Tris?"

Tris flashed her eyes to Four and then back to Caleb. "You go on ahead, Caleb," she smiled. "I need to talk to Four about something."

Caleb looked between his sister and Four, that feeling of jealousy rushing through him unwittingly as he again realized he was being replaced by the other man in her life.

"Okay," he mumbled, then swung his eyes to Zeke.

"Sure, I could do with a drink right now," Zeke said as he stood and followed Caleb out of the room.

Tris looked to Four and offered him a weak smile.

Four beamed back to her. She turned down a drinking session to talk to him, just like he asked.

He moved closer to her, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek. "Are you ready?"

Tris shook her head, knowing he was asking if she was ready to talk to him about what she had done. "No," she whispered. "But I know you want me to be, so…" she shrugged. She could do this, for him.

"Tris, I don't want another night like the one we recently had. I don't want to find you scared, alone, and trembling in the shower, too afraid to move. And I don't want to have to force you to take pills just so you can sleep," Four said as his thumb moved lovingly over her cheek, looking deep into her eyes and hoping she could see he just wanted to help her.

Tris sighed softly, unable to tear her gaze from Four's intent look.

"Okay," she returned, her voice quivering slightly.

Four searched her face, looking for any signs that she might hold back what he needed her to give up, but at that moment all he could see was the girl who held his heart securely in her hands. The woman whose soul was the mate for his.

He couldn't help himself as he drew her closer and placed his lips against hers, tenderly and un-hurried.

Tris moved her arms around his shoulder and returned his kiss, sweeping her tongue against his as she deepened their kiss, pulling him closer and molding her body to his.

At a discreet cough, they froze, before turning as one to see Amar still sitting in one of the large chairs by the fireplace.

"Don't mind me, but if things get a little personal, I would rather be elsewhere," he told them with a sheepish grin.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Tris said back, forcing herself to smirk at him. "Don't want to scar you for life, old man."

Amar gave a laugh at that as he stood. "Yeah, the things you youngsters do in the name of fun these days. I certainly don't need to be privy to that."

"I bet you could have given us a run of our money back in the day," Tris returned glibly, unconsciously drawing out their conversation and therefore delaying her talk with Four.

Amar moved to the door, but stopped halfway across the room. He turned back to them, eyeing the pair with almost parental concern.

"Don't trust anyone," he said before he could stop himself.

Four and Tris looked to each other in question, and then back to Amar.

"You rely on each other, and no one else," he continued sincerely before turning and leaving the room.

"What was that about?" Tris asked, turning to Four.

Four shrugged, his eyes on the door, trying to make sense of Amar's words.

He turned to her after a moment. "So we trust each other, and no one else?"

Tris nodded. "Amar is a man of few words, but I have found the times he does have something to say, those are the moments to take notice."

Tris moved back over to the couch and flopped herself down. Four followed her, and when he settled on to the opposite end of the large sofa, Tris gave a soft laugh.

"Why so far away, Bear?" she asked, indicating the space between them.

"So I'm not tempted by your womanly charms," he smirked back.

Tris grinned back at him and let her fingers trailed down the buttons of her black shirt invitingly, popping the one that held her top together just above her breasts, and Four shook his head, though his eyes were shining with enjoyment at her seductive movements. "Not gonna happen, babe."

Tris huffed at him, pulling her hand away from where she was brushing it enticingly across her breast.

"Tris," he prompted.

Tris shrugged irritably. "What do you want me to say?"

"Why did you do it?" he asked softly, his eyes intent on her face, watching for the telling emotions that were bound to surface.

Tris closed her eyes, an image of the man in the alley flittering across her mind, then the picture changed, and it was her lying on the ground in that alley with a nameless man looming above her, slicing into her tender skin.

She shuddered and snapped her eyes open to find Four's warm whisky orbs gazing at her, encouraging her gently without words.

"I don't know why, Four," she sighed. "When I started, I wasn't completely sure what I was doing. It's like I was working on autopilot or something."

Four nodded once, letting her continue.

"I thought I could let you take over, though I wasn't sure you would want to."

"I would have if that's what you needed," he told her sincerely, needing her to know he was there for her, no matter what. Even if she needed him to him to torture that man to the point of death, he would have. For her.

"But I needed to do it myself. I can't be that weak, not in front of dumb fucks who think they can use that to control me."

"It's not weak to have emotions, Tris."

"But it's weak to show them in front of the enemy," she answered, her voice low. "To lose control of the situation."

"Tris," Four started, then he paused before continuing. "Why do you have to have control all the time? Why can't you just let someone else take over?"

Tris looked pleadingly to him, "Four, I really don't want to talk about that right now."

"Is this something that came about because of ...?"

"Four, please," Tris implored, standing suddenly from the couch. "Let's talk about the alley, not my past."

"The two are irrevocably entwined," he sighed, shaking his head at her insistence to leave her past in the past. "Would you have done what you did without the knowledge of how painful it is?"

Tris winced as though she could feel a knife slicing into the skin over her ribs, and she lifted her hand almost instinctively to cover the area, the motion not being missed by Four.

He reached over and pulled her down onto his lap, circling her slim figure with his large arms.

"He won't hurt you again, Tris," he said softly into her ear.

"I hated it," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly with emotion. "Every time my knife cut into him, I wasn't there in that alley. I was back in my parents' dining room. But..." she swallowed nervously. "I couldn't stop. I was sickened by what I was doing but…" She shook her head, willing the pictures in her mind to disappear before she snuggled closer into him, almost as if she needed his warmth. "I'm no better than that bastard who did it to me, am I?"

Four cupped her chin tenderly. "Don't think like that. Never think like that."

"I can't help it, Four. Would a normal person do something like that? Would you torture him the way I did for a name that means absolutely nothing to us?"

"Tris, you are normal."

"No, I'm not. I'm not a normal person, and I never will be. There is too much..." She cast her eyes widely around the room as if searching for the right word, "darkness. There is too much darkness in me."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I just don't believe that."

She was silent for a moment, and he really hoped she was listening to what he was saying.

"We'll never know if I would do the same as you, but I have done some shit I'm not proud of, all in the name of duty. Does that make me a bad person? I don't think so. Sometimes we do what we have to do," Four said to her, brushing away a single tear as soon as it escaped.

Tris wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting her body slightly in his arms so her head was beside his, hugging him tight to her body. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What for?" he asked, his hands rubbing her back soothingly.

"For doing that, for making you watch, and for the things that dick said to you," Tris answered, still not looking at him, laying her head on his shoulder.

"There is nothing for you to be sorry about, Tris," he answered immediately. "I won't sit here and lie to you and tell you I wasn't a little disturbed about what you were doing. But I understand why you did it, and I know there wasn't a moment that you enjoyed it. I know that, Tris, because I know you. I know you deep inside."

She giggled a little against his shoulder, and he smiled in spite of himself. "Only you can still be thinking about sex," he murmured softly to her.

She pulled away from him, her hands moving from around his neck to hold his face close to hers. She gave a quick flick of her head, moving the piece of hair which had fallen across her eye with the movement and then looked deeply into his eyes.

She really wanted to tell him, tell him how she felt deep inside. How could this man still want to be with her, knowing all he did about her? She knew he had his suspicions about the full extent of what had happened to her when her parents died, but for now, the words wouldn't come because she couldn't verbalize her experience or her feelings. She couldn't take the risk that he would turn away from her, too disgusted to touch her. The fear of being rejected because of something beyond her control was ever present, despite the number of sexual partners she'd had in the past. The fact it was yet to happen did not mean it never would. She knew how damaged she was but she had this perverse need to not others see how deep that destruction went.

"Can I kiss you now?" she asked, her voice low and sultry.

He answered by closing the gap between their lips, kissing her slow and tenderly. He caressed her lips slowly, barely placing any pressure there, just enjoying the feel of her.

He pulled back before she was ready and, smirking at her disappointed look, he relaxed back against the side of couch, bring her with him and settling her head against his shoulder again.

They breathed as one, enjoying the quiet of the room, the only sound being the crackling of the large fire burning brightly in the fireplace. Four held her close, the fingers of his right hand running lazily up and down her arm.

He took a deep breath.

"My father is not the person your uncle thinks he is," he started, his voice low and nervous. "He is not a great man, or a caring man, but he was _very_ creative," he continued, echoing Mason's words from when Four agreed to join The Dauntless.

"It started off with small things: being sent to bed without supper, being locked in the upstairs closet. Then it progressed. I was either locked in the closet overnight, or forced to sleep outside in the freezing cold with no provisions." He could feel Tris tense up beside him, her hand firmly on his chest and her fingers gently caressing his shirt, but she didn't comment; just listened.

"Then it was the leather of his belt against my back, my upper arm on the burner of the stove, and ice-cold baths. He always marked me where no one would see, desperate to keep his image as the loving father, the caring political science teacher, the all-around good guy," his voice waivered slightly, the emotions he had buried as a young boy bubbling to the surface.

"He always said he was doing it for my own good, that his actions would make me a better man," he told her.

"Four," Tris whispered, the tears in her eyes slipping silently over her lids. She wanted desperately to look at him, to offer her sympathies for something he had no control over, but she knew her words would not reach his ears just yet. She knew he didn't want to see any sign of pity from her. Because that's what she felt when people told her they were sorry for what had happened to her.

No one knew, no one could understand, what he had been through as a child, what she had endured as a teenager. Their souls had connected and maybe this was why; because they were both broken in their own way, but still, she couldn't understand his abuse just like he couldn't fully comprehend hers. All they could do was be there for each other when the world seemed to want to crush them.

"I haven't spoken to my father I left home to start university and I haven't been back to California since," he concluded. "I don't want anything to do with Marcus Eaton."

"That's why you like to be called Four," she deduced. "Because your name is just a reminder of your past." Tris felt his head nod against hers.

"No one has called me Tobias since I left California," he said.

He felt Tris move against him as she turned more into him. Her hand rested on his slightly stubbled cheek, turning his head to hers.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For trusting me with this."

"I want you to trust me, Tris, to be honest with me, and the best way for me to prove to you that I'm not gonna run, that I'm here for as long as you want me, is to be just as honest with you."

Four desperately wanted to tell her, tell her that she was in his heart and he loved her. Loved everything about her, but he also didn't want to scare her.

"I trust you," Tris returned, her voice low but steady. She could hardly believe this man who was so strong, who projected a life-force that seemed to dominate over every other person she had ever met, had a scared little boy inside him, trying desperately to overcome the trials of his childhood and the sins of his father. Just like she was trying to overcome her own demons.

"I trust you," she repeated, for her own benefit as well as his, as she snuggled back into his arms, lending him her strength as much as she drew it from him.

…


	21. Chapter 21

Good Afternoon you lovely, lovely people. Hope all is well with you this bright, sunny day.

Welcome to new readers, we are happy to have you here.

As always, thanks to you all for your reviews, your favorites, and alerts on this story. You guys just don't realize what your continued support means to me.

To my two, ever faithful, guest reviews (I'm assuming its the same two people, anyway) Thanks for your reviews. One of you guys had my blushing and grinning with your comment.

Again, special thanks to cjgwilliams - who I recently said I should be paying her for her semi-therapy sessions with me - your deep, probing questions have only enhanced this experience.

And so on to Chapter 21 - hang on to your pants, guys, its gonna get intense...

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Chapter 21.

A few days later, Tris and Four relaxed together on one of the large, squishy couches in front of a large, flat-screen TV. Four lay lengthwise across the soft cushions with Tris prone above him, her head resting on his shoulder and her legs settled between his thighs.

"I love this episode," Tris grinned, her eyes glued to the animated show playing before, her jaw moving slowing as she chewed on a Skittle.

Four chuckled low in his throat. "Your passion for Family Guy is a little concerning," he said, his fingers twirling into her hair, enjoying this peaceful moment.

"Why?" she mumbled, her fingers curling around one of the buttons holding his shirt together.

He shrugged. "I don't know. This is pretty low-brow humor."

"Well, I like it," she reasoned, poking her finger into his ribs for emphasis. "It's pretty funny."

"Whatever," Four agreed, his hand now running up and down her spine.

They watched the rest of the show in relative silence, Tris chuckling every now and then at some gag, Four smiling along with her. As the end credits played out, Tris moved, wriggling her body to a sitting position, her backside settling on the couch between Four's legs with both hers dangling over his right one, so she was facing the TV.

"Whatcha wanna do now?" she asked him, a sly grin on her face.

"Oh, I have a ton of paperwork I need to complete …" Four started, his own lips pulling into a grin at her look of disappointment.

"Really," she groaned. "Paperwork!"

"Of course, I could be distracted," he encouraged, his hand falling to her thigh and his fingers digging into the material.

"I'm good at distraction," she smiled. She reached for him, her hand clutching at his shirt and pulling him up to her. She met his lips with a tender kiss; tantalizing while promising the arousal bubbling within her.

Four wrapped his left arm around her body, turning her more to face him, his right hand cupping her cheek as he returned her kiss.

Their bodies moved, rearranging themselves on the couch so Four could hold her closer, effectively holding Tris in his lap. He nibbled at her lips and felt her grin before she opened, granting him access to her mouth.

Tris leaned back, lowering her body down onto the couch, bringing Four with her as she continued to brush her tongue against his gently, almost delicately, taking her time with their kiss.

She wanted Four to be the one to break this time, but she wasn't above a little teasing to help get him to that point quicker. She trailed one hand down from his face, down to his neck, and she let her fingers dance along that sensitive part where his neck met his shoulder.

Four repaid her by sucking against the same area on her neck, and Tris sighed blissfully.

Her hand continued down, over his back until she could lift his shirt at his waist and slip her hand under, eager to feel his skin under her fingertips.

She glided her hand back up along his spine, while Four moved to unbutton her figure-hugging top, his lips following his movement and kissing the exposed skin as soon as it came into view.

He smiled against her bare skin, his month inching to her nipple, infinitely slowly, as he registered she was without a bra again. When he finally had the shirt open, he pushed the panels apart, pulling back from her and letting his gaze and hands trail over her skin, his fingertips barely brushing against her. He glanced to see her eyes were closed as she lost herself in his touch, a soft smile playing on her lips.

When his delicate caress traced over the thin white line below her right breast, Tris opened her eyes only to be confronted immediately with his smoldering brown ones, full of trust and passion. Her mind shot back to their conversation a few nights ago and the trust he had given her in recounting his childhood. A trust she desperately wanted to give him.

She dropped her eye-level to watch his strong hand stroke against her gently. She couldn't stop her eyes fluttering and closing again when his lips replaced his fingers, a shudder of pleasure rippling through her as he showered her scar with his kisses.

He snapped the button of her jeans and opened the zipper with ease, pulling the denim down slightly to expose another blemish above her hip bone. Four gave this mark the same loving attention the other had received.

Tris squirmed under his mouth, the feel of his hot breath against her driving her crazy with desire.

"Four," she said, hoping for a stern voice to urge him on, but instead it came out more like a whimper.

Four looked up to her before bringing himself back up to her waiting lips, moving quickly and catching her by surprise, though her yelp was swallowed by his mouth.

He kissed her thoroughly, not leaving any part of her mouth untouched by his tongue, and Tris whimpered again beneath him, rubbing her legs together to try and alleviate the ache that was building there.

She was the one who was supposed be in control, but for the first time, with this man, she felt that need to dominate slip, wanting him to take this to its inevitable finish. It was almost like her heart was warring with her head. Part of her demanded she give this man everything, give up her need to control every situation because she trusted him completely. Then that broken part of her insisted on holding on to her control: to protect herself, because that was the only way she could survive.

When his lips left hers and made another trail down her body, she took a calming breath, trying to quell her fear as it started to bubble within her. She knew she was psyching herself out. Her heart wanted to give in, just this once, to not think, just feel, and let this man love her, but she knew it was futile. She wouldn't, she couldn't.

She felt the material of her jeans draw down her legs as Four slowly stripped them from her and, looking at him again, she smiled at his sexy smirk. She scooted back a little on the couch, giving him a little more room to maneuver as he returned slowly up her body, kiss, biting, and licking at her soft skin, moving her legs further apart as he went.

As he pressed his lips against a small scar against her knee, she giggled. That mark was left after she had fallen from her bicycle whilst learning to ride when she was young, but he still treated it as tenderly as he did her other more traumatic blemishes.

When he stopped at the criss-cross markings of short, thin lines high on her inner left thigh, she held her breath. _Please don't_ , she thought, squeezing her eyes shut against what he could so easily see, and what she wished she could remove.

Most of her other lovers would barely comment her scars, and those who did were generally those she had a quasi-relationship with. With Four, the attention he was giving each and every white, stark line on her body seemed to shatter her to the core. His insistence to include his, almost, worship of them stirred an emotion within her she struggled to accept. She didn't want him to single them out, to touch them almost more delicately than he did the rest of her body, but her body also trembled in knowing he recognized them as part of her, of who she was.

That he could caress them as he would the rest of her made her heart beat just a little bit faster. But, still, the scars on her inner thigh, these were the marks that caused her the most anguish. She didn't want to think of him seeing them, loving them, because who could do that, love them, knowing what they represented.

When he placed a delicate kiss on the marred skin, she flinched and moved, quicker than even she thought possible. Within a nano-second, Four was on his back on the floor in front of the couch with Tris above, her hands on his shoulders and her legs straddling his body.

She trembled as she looked down at him, her body shaking almost violently, not really seeing his puzzled look at the sudden change in their positions.

When her eyes finally refocused on him, she grinned, covering her tempestuous thoughts and her body's natural reaction to something she didn't want to think about. "You had your chance," she told him glibly. "Now it's my turn."

Four wrapped his arm around her waist, under her shirt which was still hanging open, pulling her down and closer to him. "I'll let you have your way this time, babe" he grinned to her, "but, next time, it's my turn."

"Whatever you say," she whispered against his lips before kissing him.

She pulled back, noting the darkening of his chocolate eyes, and she smiled again, her hands roaming over his shirt-covered chest. When she suddenly pulled on the material, ripping the buttons, and tearing it apart, her gaze shot up to meet his.

"Eager?" he asked her, his brow raised, and at Tris's glint of mischief, he laughed.

Her lips attacked his body, and Four closed his eyes at the sensation of her moving above him. He knew he had taken it too far when he felt her breathing stilled as his gaze landed on those scars on her thigh, but he had pushed and placed his lips over the area anyway. He'd hoped she would see that she was safe with him, that he'd worship every part of her, even the dark parts.

He wasn't really surprised to see her turn the tables so quickly on him. She opened up about her feelings regarding what had taken place earlier in the week, and he seriously doubted he would get any more from her just yet.

As her hands reached for his belt, his eyes flickered once to the double doors leading to the room they were in. He vaguely wondered if they would be disturbed, but given the lateness of the hour, he doubted they would be interrupted.

She quickly removed his jeans and was moving slowly, crawling back up his body with that wicked gleam back in her eyes that he had come to love. He grinned at her when she nudged his erection with her nose, but then completely ignored it, moving closer to his lips.

She teased him again as she nibbled at his chin and across to his ear before she whispered, "I want you, Bear. Hard and fast and right here."

Four gulped slightly at the ferocity of her words and the huskiness to her voice as he surrendered himself to her completely.

…

Four sifted through the loose sheets of paper on his desk again, as he had already done several times during the last couple of hours. The constant noise and movement of the police department was soothing to him despite its annoyance.

He glanced over to Jason, his C.P.D. partner, who was busy with his own paperwork. He looked relaxed and tanned, and Four wondered if he would ever get to see this private island of Tris's.

Jason returned to work with stories of being pampered beyond anything he could have imagined. His wife, Charlotte, and their young daughter, Kayla, almost mutinied, wanting to remain in paradise forever, but as it was with all good things, it had to end, and now their lives were almost back to normal.

Four moved the papers again, hiding them under the file folder of a case he'd been working on before meeting Tris and joining The Dauntless, and he turned to the computer monitor on his desk, pulling the keyboard closer to him.

His fingers paused above the keys while his heart had an internal argument with his brain. _Was it an invasion of privacy if he looked up a police report from eight years ago that concerned his girlfriend?_ Technically, there was no reason for him to pull the file, and his mind was telling him it was wrong. But his heart, it ached for what Tris had gone through, and he thought if he found the documentation, it would mean she wouldn't have to tell him herself. He reasoned he was helping, and type with one finger, slowly, as if giving himself the chance to change his mind.

"Eaton! Barrington!" a loud voice called over to them, and Four and Jason both snapped their heads up at the sound of their Captain's bellow.

"I need you out," he continued as he stalked over to the area they monopolized and thrust as piece of paper into Jason's hand. "This one is pretty grim. CSI is on scene. They need some hardcore detectives, and I've offered them you two pussies."

Four grinned to Jason. They did have a reputation of dealing with some pretty messed up situations.

They stood almost at the same time, and Four grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, Jason mirroring his actions, and they set off for Four's car.

They arrived at their destination just south of Lincoln Park, parking Four's car behind a white CSI van and two patrol cars. They flashed their badges to a cop standing guard by black wrought iron gates, before being waved past.

"Isn't it amazing how some people live?" Jason scoffed, as they climbed pristine, white stone steps and Four had to bite back his answer. This house, although palatial, was a townhouse compared to his current residence.

At the top of the steps, they were greeted by a balding, overweight man, maybe in his early 40's, as he stepped out of the house.

"Detectives Barrington and Eaton?" he asked gruffly, his thick mustache wriggling like an over-large caterpillar on his upper lip.

They both nodded as they mounted the steps. "Joe Brantley," he introduced himself.

"What do we have?" Jason asked, jumping straight in.

"Community security called it in. He noticed the front gate open and entered to investigate and found the body," Brantley told them as they followed him into the house.

"Community security?" Jason probed.

"In case you missed it, this road is pretty affluent," Brantley informed them. "The residents pay a private security company to patrol the area."

As soon as Four stepped over the threshold, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he glanced down to see goosebumps breakout down both arms, the hairs there standing upright. He rubbed viciously at his arms, bringing heat back and thinking someone must have turned the air conditioning on, though looking at his companions, they both looked a little flushed with heat.

Jason whistled low in his throat at the opulence of the foyer they walked into. Marble floors and columns adorned the area, the walls a wet sand color and a huge crystal chandelier hung overhead.

Upon both long walls of the entryway there hung four large pictures, two each side of the space, but the images were hidden from view by large white cloths covering each of them. Ornate side tables were against both sides of the hall, but the main focus was the double staircase in front of them. White gleaming marble curled and led to the upstairs rooms with dark iron banisters on either side of the steps.

They followed through the house while Brantley continued. "Nobody has lived here for eight years. I have one of my guys questioning the security guard about the owners."

"Why would you not want to live here?" Jason asked nobody in particular.

Four had a sense of impending doom as he hovered at the doorway to a room he felt he didn't want to enter.

And as soon as he did, his fear became heightened, a feeling of oppression descending on him, and the air crackled around him with silent cries and degradation. He cautiously entered what was obviously a dining room, a large and grand room with a long walnut dining table in place, chairs neatly on each side, all except three which had been moved to one side.

When his eyes fell on a few strands of golden hair, his stomach flipped, and he reluctantly walked around the table.

"Ah, shit," Jason exclaimed as he saw what Four was seeing.

A young girl, maybe 16, was sprawled out on the floor, her legs spread at a disturbing angle, her hands tied together above her head with coarse rope. She wore a small, brown-colored skirt that had been bunched up onto her waist, but thankfully obscuring her from the prying eyes of the men in the room. Her cream color shirt was open and, unfortunately, her top half didn't have the same modesty her bottom half did. Her blonde hair was fanned out, almost as if placed there deliberately, and her dead eyes were staring up to the ceiling.

Four felt his stomach roll again and threaten to expel his lunch as he took in the many cuts scattered across her body; some shallow, more not so. Judging by the way the blood was congealed, it was obvious it had stopped flowing a day or so ago.

Photographers from the CSI unit snapped picture after picture, documenting the room and the girl, and Four was drawn again to the girl's face. When light seemed to bounce off her, and he swore loudly, turning his back on the sight.

When he turned back, Jason was crouching beside the body, his hand covered in a latex glove.

"It looks like letters," Jason said to the room, his hand close to the girl's leg, and Four moved so he could see better as Jason added, "S and an E, I think."

A photographer moved from snapping a picture of that, and Four saw what Jason was talking about.

When his eyes fell on the cluster of red welts on the girl's inner thigh, Four moved quicker than he thought he was capable of as he headed instinctively for the kitchen and vomited in the sink.

He stayed there until he was hurling nothing but air, then he wiped his mouth on the back of a shaky hand.

He knew whose house this was. He didn't need telling, but he still needed the confirmation, and he reluctantly turned back and headed back to the dining room.

Jason looked up as his partner re-entered the room, noting his ashen look and silently wondered if Four was coming down with a bug or something. He never got sick at a crime scene. In fact, of all of the guys at the precinct, Four seemed to have the strongest stomach when it came to some of the things they saw in the line of duty.

At the same time that Four entered, Brantley came back.

"I think we are dealing with a copycat here, boys," he told the two detectives. "This place belongs to the Priors. The parents were killed here eight years ago, but the daughter survived."

Jason reacted to that news with a huff. "The Priors, huh? The ones who own half this city."

Four half heard what was being said, his mind registering the other detective confirming his fears, and his eyes lifted to one wall, once a vivid green, now marred with splattered blood, old and new. His gaze shifted again until it stopped on a word that had been written in what he assumed was the blood of the victim.

 _Soon._

Four felt the bile rush again but he pushed it down, not wanting to taint the crime scene with his DNA.

"Hey," Jason said, his eyes swinging from the blood-soaked wall to his partner. "Are you okay?'

Four looked to his partner, his mind screaming at him not to do what he knew he was going to, but he had to. "Do you trust me?" he asked his partner.

"What?" Jason answered incredulously.

"Do you trust me?" Four repeated sternly, hoping Jason understood the urgency in his voice.

"Of course," Jason answered.

Four looked at the other in the room. "I need this room emptied now," he ordered, and the figures all stopped what they were doing, looking at him in question.

"Don't you fucking understand me? Out. Everyone. Now!" Four bellowed, and they scattered quickly at the anger in his voice. Only Detective Brantley stood his ground.

"You, too," Four told him, pulling his cell from his jeans jacket. "You need to hold the door. No one is allowed in here unless I say so," and watched bewildered as the older man actually walked backward out of the room.

"Four, what the fuck are you doing?" Jason asked, standing from the body and removing his glove.

Four held his finger up to his friend, stalling his answer as he looked at his phone, wondering which speed dial number to hit. It went with number three and held the phone to his ear, waiting for the call to be answered.

"Zeke," he said into the device as soon as he heard his Dauntless partner's voice. "I need you to get your ass in gear. I'm gonna send you an address, and I need you here five minutes ago."

"What's going on, Four?" Zeke asked concerned.

"Just get here," Four answered and pressed a button, ending the call, and then quickly typed in a message with the address and sent it off to Zeke.

"Are you trying to tell me you're gay? 'Cause if you are, this isn't the right place," Jason quipped.

Four shot him a look as he pressed another number on his speed dial.

Again, he waited for endless seconds for the call to be answered.

"Prior Group," a cheerful voice called down the line.

"George," Four called. "Is she there?"

"Yes, Detective Eaton. She's in a meeting. Do you…"

"Don't let her leave," Four interrupted him.

"What?" George asked disbelieving.

"Do not let her leave her office until either Caleb or I pick her up. Do you understand?"

"I'm not an imbecile," George huffed.

"Good. Do you have the authority to request additional guards?" Four quizzed.

"Oh fuck!" George exclaimed. "What's going on, Four?"

"Just get another guard on her door, and don't leave her alone. Can you do that?"

"Yes," George replied as he held the receiver between his ear and neck, his hand moving to his lowest drawer. He opened it, reached in, and pulled out a small Glock, flicked the safety off and slipped it into his top drawer.

"Okay, I'll call later." And with that he ended the call.

Four moved around the room, keeping his eyes from the girl on the floor and turned back to see Jason looking at him quizzically.

"Some things have happened to me while you were on vacation," Four said to him, his voice low. "The most important being I have a new girl."

"Wow," Jason would have laughed, if not for the seriousness of Four's face. "And just who is this mysterious girl?"

"Tris," Four answered, watching Jason and when his partner showed no recognition he added. "Beatrice Prior."

"Ah, shit, Four. Not a Prior, they are the…" then he stopped and looked down at the dead girl.

"Beatrice Prior, as in the only survivor of a brutal double homicide that happened here eight years ago?" Jason queried low and blanched as Four nodded.

"Don't do things by half, do you, Eaton?" Jason muttered, shaking his head.

In an amazingly short space of time, they heard voices from the front of the house, and Four left the dining room and entered back into the foyer, where he saw Zeke by the front door being stopped by Detective Brantley.

"Brantley," Four called out. "Let him through."

Zeke entered into the house quietly, his eyes roaming the hall and the staircase as he passed through. Four turned and walked back into the dining room with Zeke following him.

"Jason Barrington, Zeke Pedrad," he said, making quick introductions.

Jason threw a look at Four, and he shook Zeke's hand as Four explained, "Zeke works for the Priors," and hoped Zeke went along with his tale.

"What can I do for you?" Zeke asked with a sidelong glance to Jason.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, believe me, but…" and he moved so Zeke could see the body on the floor.

"Ah, fuck," Zeke expelled, his eyes lifting to the red letters on the wall. "Have you called Caleb?"

"Do you think I should?" Four asked, concerned of the effect something like this would have on Tris's brother.

"I think he'll kill you if you don't, and he finds out," Zeke answered wisely.

"Who's Caleb?" Jason questioned, looking between the two.

"Caleb Prior. Tris's brother," Four answered.

"Call him," Jason ordered. "It won't hurt having a Prior here, anyway, and I'm taking it you don't want your new honey to come down."

"Fuck, no," Four retorted gruffly. This was something she definitely did not need to see.

Zeke dug for his phone to make the call. "Where is she?" he asked Four.

"At work. I called George and told him to keep her there and double her guard," Four informed him, and Zeke nodded at his words.

"Caleb," Zeke said into his cell. "I need you to remain calm. Do not do anything stupid, and meet me somewhere."

There was a pause as Caleb replied to Zeke's short orders, Zeke smiling a little at whatever he was saying.

"Okay, I need you to come to your old house," Zeke said, and Four grimaced as he could hear Caleb string a line of expletives even from his distance.

"Look, Caleb," Zeke said softly. "Just get here."

And he ended the call and moved over to inspect the body.

"I'm just gonna go tell Brantley to expect an irate Prior any minute," Jason told Four as he left the room.

Four moved over to Zeke, his eyes on the poor dead girl, and he willed his brain to stop changing her face into Tris's.

"The marks are almost identical," he told Zeke, leaning over to point out the ones on her inner thigh. "Jason seems to think these look like an E and a S."

"Yeah, I guess," Zeke conceited. "It's hard to see with them being so new." The welts looked angry, inflamed, and sore, and the dried, crusty blood on them obscured the markings slightly.

Zeke looked up to Four. "Does Tris have marks in the same place?" he asked, not really knowing if want to know. At Four's short nod in the affirmative, he added. "What do they look like?"

Four's mind whirled as he thought of the stark white marks on his girlfriend's leg, the ones he had kissed tenderly only this morning, which had caused her to freak out. He nodded, yes, they could be a S and an E.

"So, this could be the work of the same guy or a copycat," Zeke concluded. "You know, we'll have to tell her and Mason."

They was a commotion by the front door again, and Zeke and Four moved out into the foyer to see Caleb standing in the doorway, almost as if he was afraid to enter.

"He's never been back here since it happened," Zeke leaned over to Four to tell him. "He holds himself somewhat responsible. He'd been at a friend's party while his family..."

"And what could he have done? He couldn't have been more than 17."

Zeke shrugged, "It still haunts him."

Caleb looked up and saw Four and Zeke standing to the side of the grand staircase at the entrance to the dining room, and he shuddered involuntarily as he stepped in to the house.

He looked automatically to the right side of the entrance area and crossed to the large covered picture there. His hand moved as if by itself as it lifted to the frame he could feel under the cloth, and he closed his eyes and pulled at the material.

The cloth fluttered almost gracefully to the ground, revealing a large portrait of a 15 year-old girl, her eyes shining brightly back to them, her cheeky smile infectious.

Four moved closer to look at the likeness and smiled in spite of the situation. Even at 15, she had been a beauty, but this picture showed something that he couldn't recall seeing in the woman he knew. It wasn't exactly an innocence, the smirk of her lips and the mischief in her eyes was a look he was familiar with when she was about to do something indecent to him, but the brightness of her eyes had dimmed somewhat.

"This had been hung maybe three weeks before it happened," Caleb told them in an unrecognizable voice.

"Wow," Jason whispered as he moved toward the three men by the painting, and all three of them swung their heads to him.

"This your new girl?" Jason asked Four with a glint in his eye.

"This was her eight years ago," Four nodded as he looked back to the portrait.

"And she's my sister," Caleb growled to the other cop. "And don't you forget that."

With that, Caleb moved away from the picture. "Okay, why am I here?" he asked Four and Zeke.

The two guys looked at each other and then back to Caleb. "You'd better come and see," Zeke answered and led Caleb off to the dining room with Four and Jason following.

Zeke paused at the door, turning back to his friend. "I'm sorry to have to show you this," he said quietly and then continued into the room.

"Sweet fucking Jesus," Caleb swore when his eyes fell on the young girl, and he stumbled, clutching his stomach. He fell to his knees, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the image before him, his mind instantly replacing her face with Tris's.

His eyes blindly swept the room, taking in the area that had once been filled with laughter and enjoyment. Now it held death and misery. He could envision Tris the night this nightmare had started as she had moved gracefully through the room, kissing their mom and dad goodbye before heading out to a party; a party where he had been a prick, and they argued. He left her alone, refusing to return home with her, and it was that evening their nightmare began after Tris arrived home.

His eyes fell back to the body laid out on the floor, and he shuddered at what this girl had gone through, and what his sister had to live with each day.

He looked up to Four. "Where is she?"

"At work," Four answered.

"I need to get to her, protect her," Caleb responded, almost to himself than the others in the room as he stumbled up from his position on the floor.

"I called George. Told him to keep her there until one of us collects her, and in the meantime, to put an extra guard on her door," Four explained quickly.

Caleb nodded. "Good. Thanks."

Four nodded, watching as Caleb finally settled, and his gaze fell on the ominous word on the wall.

"We need to catch this bastard and quick, before soon becomes now," Caleb said to nobody in particular.

"What are the chances of your sister leaving the country for a while, ya know, to stay safe?" Jason asked Caleb.

Caleb, Four, and Zeke shared a look, then each let out a snort of sarcastic laughter.

"Not gonna happen," Zeke laughed.

"Hell will freeze over first," Caleb added.

"Why?" Jason queried, looking at the three men in front of him. "It's for her own safety."

"I think you need to meet Tris," Four said with a slight smile. "She's very… determined."

Caleb huffed. "Yeah, and it was that determination that saw her through the nightmare she went through in this room."

Caleb turned to the man who was obviously Four's C.P.D. partner. "If we tell Tris about this, she will be in the front of the line so she can be in on the hunt and get a piece of this bastard."

"You think we can keep it from her?" Zeke asked.

"Not a chance in hell. You can't keep a secret if your life depended on it, especially with Tris. All she has to do is bat her eyes, flash a length of leg, and you'd spill your most inner secrets," Caleb scoffed. Then he looked over to Four. "And don't even get me started with the ways she could get the intel out of you."

"So, you are telling her?" Jason concluded.

Four's cell burst into song at that moment, the familiar chords of Hoobastank's "Inside of You" filling the room and startling them out of their conversation. He pulled it from his back pocket with a grimace on his face, knowing from the ringtone who was calling. He reluctantly accepted the call and brought the device to his ear.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Tris's voice blared into the room before he had a chance to say anything.

"Hey babe," Four greeted her.

"Don't babe me, Four. Why aren't I allowed to leave my office? Why is there another guard on my door? And more importantly, why is my PA walking around with a fucking Glock in his pants?"

"Tris, just take a breath. Sniff some oil or something," he reasoned, stalling for time, looking hopefully at the men in the room for some way to appease her.

"Don't tell me what to do, Four. Tell me why I'm being forced to stay in my office. And what the hell are you talking about – _sniff some oil_?"

"Cypress oil, it helps to calm the nerves or some shit like that."

He could almost see Tris taking a deep breath. "I do not need to sniff oil, Four," she returned, obviously through clenched teeth. "I just want to know what the hell is going on."

"Okay, Tris. I'll be with you in 30. Wait for me, please?" Four asked her.

"I don't know if I will," she told him. "You know very well I could just walk out of here if I want to. That guard is no match for me."

"The guard is not to keep you in, babe," he answered before he could stop himself.

"Not to keep me in," she repeated and he could almost hear her inner thoughts. "Who are you trying to keep out?" she asked cautiously.

"Tris," Four said gently.

"Who is it, Four?" she repeated, her voice eerily calm.

"Tris," he repeated and then heard nothing but a dead line as she cut off their call.

"Shit," Four whispered looking at his phone.

"What?" Caleb asked stepping closer.

"She hung up on me. I think she knows."


	22. Chapter 22

Happy Wednesday! It's Update time.

I still can't comprehend the amount of people this story has drawn in, and still continues to draw in. It seems every chapter, I get a review, or new favorites and alerts, from new readers. So thank you all for joining this merry band of The Dauntless. I sincerely can not express my gratitude that you all are enjoying this - despite there being huge aspects of this fic that are certainly not happy.

To my ever-faithful guest reviewers : love your reviews, keep'em coming

Again, thanks to cjgwilliams for checking over this chapter and suggesting some words which only enhance the experience.

I added a _'Previously on...'_ in this chapter, just as a reminder of where we left off last time.

And so, on the Chapter 22...

* * *

Chapter 22

 _Previously…_

" _The guard is not to keep you in, babe," he answered before he could stop himself._

" _Not to keep me in," she repeated and he could almost hear her inner thoughts. "Who are you trying to keep out?" she asked cautiously._

" _Tris," Four said gently._

" _Who is it, Four?" she repeated, her voice eerily calm._

" _Tris," he repeated and then heard nothing but a dead line as she cut off their call._

" _Shit," Four whispered looking at his phone._

" _What?" Caleb asked stepping closer._

" _She hung up on me. I think she knows."_

…

"How is that possible?" Jason queried.

Four looked at Caleb. "Is it possible?"

Caleb shrugged, knowing what Four was asking. With her abilities, could Tris know there was someone out there who was intent on making her suffer?

"It's never happened before, but Tris is exceptional," Caleb answered slowly.

"What aren't you guys telling me?" Jason demanded, easily reading between the lines that there was something more going on here.

"Nothing," Caleb snapped to him, telling Four in one word that Jason could not know about The Dauntless.

Caleb turned back to Four. "Has this room been processed?"

"Yeah, I think the guys were just finishing up when we got here."

"Check it again. I want every inch of this room scrutinized to see if our killer left any clues that are specific."

Zeke and Four nodded, understanding what the other agent hadn't said.

"Clues specific to what?" Jason asked, becoming annoyed that Four, his working partner for the last three years, was holding out on potentially important information.

"Zeke," Caleb glanced over at the dark man with an apologetic look. "Could you check her?" and he pointed to the body.

Zeke nodded, moving over to girl who had lost her life and grabbing a pair of latex gloves from a box on the table that had clearly been left by the CSI team.

"What about the letters?" Jason offered, his voice taking on a hint of frustration. He couldn't believe he was helping these two men who he didn't know, who had seemingly taken over this crime scene with an ease that bewildered him. He reasoned he was only still there because somehow Four had become entangled with these men through his new girlfriend, and if they were okay in Four's eyes, that was good enough for him to wait and ask questions later.

"What letters?" Caleb asked, turning his head sharply toward Four.

"There seem to be some letters on her thigh that appear to match with the ones on Tris's," Four told him, raising his hand nervously to rub the back of it against his forehead.

"Fuck," Caleb growled out and reluctantly moved over to the figure sprawled on the floor.

Jason, sensing Four's unease at getting any closer to the victim, gestured toward the markings on the girl's inner thigh.

"Holy fuck," Caleb repeated, knowing about the markings on Tris's thigh but having never seen them. Looking at the stark, bloodied lines sliced into the girl's thigh, Caleb felt his stomach lurch and he swallowed thickly.

"We think it's an E and a S. We just have no clue what it means," Jason supplied.

Caleb shrugged, not finding any significance to any target they had come across, but made a mental note to check their files when he got back to the mansion. After all, this happened to Tris long before the young Priors joined Dauntless.

"Guys," Zeke called hesitantly from his place by the girl's head. "She's wearing contacts." The others turned and watched as he gently removed a colored contact from one unseeing eye. "She has blue eyes and is wearing hazel color contacts," he muttered, scrutinizing the lens.

"Bag that," Jason said quickly. "It might have a print on it. If she wore them by her own choice, it will have her prints. If they come back clean, that means he made her wear them."

He looked up to Four from his spot on the ground beside Zeke and the girl. "What color eyes does your girl have?"

Four swallowed before answering, "Hazel." Four moved away from the body, standing by a tall window that helped bring the glorious sunshine into this depressing room. "I gotta get some air," he mumbled before heading for the door leading to the kitchen.

Four strode quickly through the large kitchen, his eyes intently searching for the backdoor. He sighed gratefully when the cream colored wood of the door came into view and within seconds, in was standing in front of the exit, his hand reaching for the brass knob.

When it didn't move within his grasp, Four swore. Of course, the door would be locked, the whole house had been locked up for eight years. "Fuck," Four said, relentlessly pulling on the knob, knowing the door wouldn't open.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he repeated as he kicked the door with his foot, then he kicked again and again, his breath coming out in short, haggard exhales.

How could this son of a bitch still be out there? How could it be possible that someone would want Tris dead? Or worse, hurt her in a way he really couldn't comprehend?

He kicked the wood again, his hands landing against the large window in the door.

"Four."

Four heard Caleb's voice but refused to turn. He rested his forehead on the cool glass, not really caring if this man thought he was a pussy.

"She'll be okay," Caleb said, closing the space between. "And you know why?"

Again, Four didn't answer. He just tried to control his breathing as he took big, lung-fulling, gulps of air.

"Because," Caleb continued, "she has two of the best in The Dauntless looking out for her, she's on top of her game, and can beat the crap out of the both of us. And to be honest with you, she's a stubborn bitch, and I suspect there is only one person out there who could take her down."

Four turned his head to the man at that comment, his brow furrowed in question.

"You, man," Caleb shrugged, sighing a little before speaking again. "I have to admit it. You are better at this shit than me. Your abilities are strong, and I was jealous of that fact. That, and I know you are gonna take my sister from me."

"Caleb," Four interrupted him, standing straight again, but Caleb held his hand up, stopping him from saying anymore.

"Tris and I are a formidable team, but I reckon you and Tris; wow, nobody could stop you."

"I'm not Tris's partner. You are," Four answered.

"It will only be a matter of time before the boss sees what I see and then…"

Four didn't have an answer for that. On one hand, he understood he and Tris worked extremely well together, seeming to anticipate the others actions and thoughts, but he didn't want to take another piece of Tris from Caleb.

"Hey, I need you in there to help find the guy who did this," Caleb continued, hooking his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the dining room.

Four nodded once before inhaling slowly, and then exhaling, knowing this was just as hard for Caleb as it was for him; to be in the room where his family suffered all those years ago.

The small group searched the whole dining room for any signs this monster might have left for them. They all knew he was taunting them with the fact The Dauntless knew nothing about him, and he could strike again at any time.

Four was crouched in a far corner, closely inspecting a large, floor-standing porcelain vase that appeared to be extremely old when he first felt it. It started as a tingling, almost on the periphery of his senses, then it grew until it was sending a shiver down his spine, and he stood, turning to look back into the room.

"Oh, shit," he uttered, his voice low, causing the other guys in the room to look expectantly at him.

"She's here," was all he said before Detective Brantley reappeared at the door leading into the dining room.

"We have a situation out front," he said gruffly.

"Let me guess?" Four raised his eyebrow. "Blonde hair, killer legs?"

"Yeah, and demanding I fetch the big oaf-ish one, which I presume is you."

Four's eyes flashed to Caleb. He might have known she would turn up, and he could only imagine the turmoil within her right now to be back here.

He strode from the room, following Brantley back to the front of the house.

He saw her before she saw him. A uniformed officer was preventing her from entering the house, and though she looked determined to enter, even with the distance between them, he could see the fear in her eyes.

When the officer placed his hand on her arm, Four winced.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" Tris exclaimed heatedly to the policeman.

"Miss, I can't let you enter. This is a crime scene," the cop told her, his tone condescending.

"I know that, you idiot," Tris shot back.

"Tris," Four said calmly as he approached the entrance. "Don't call the officer names."

"I wouldn't need to if this dickwad would just listen to me," she returned curtly, her eyes not meeting his as she continued glaring at the officer whose hand was still on her arm.

Four noted the tear in her skirt and her disheveled look. "How did you get past your guards?"

Tris laughed. "Really, Bear? When are you gonna learn? If there is something I want to do, I will do it. No amount of men telling me I can't will stop me."

"Is that how you ripped your skirt?" he asked with a raised brow.

"Well, it's not the usual attire I would wear to tackle some huge Neanderthal who thought he could keep me contained," she returned sharply.

Four smirked at her response before turning to the policeman restricting her entrance. "Officer?"

"Robinson," the man told him.

"Officer Robinson, why don't you let Ms. Prior into the house," Four said evenly.

The cop quickly released Tris's arm.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, looking to Tris before turning to Four. "She never gave her name, Detective," he said, as a way of explanation.

"I shouldn't have to explain who I am to enter my own house," Tris returned indignantly.

"Normally I would agree with you, but in this circumstance, yes, you do," Four said sharply, before turning and signaling her to follow him into the mansion.

Before he let her enter, he turned to her, his expression grim. "You don't touch anything in here, got it?" He asked. Tris raised an eyebrow at the steel in his tone.

"Oh, is that right?" She challenged.

"That's right," he said firmly.

"You think you can tell me what to do? In my own home?"

"This isn't your home right now. It's a crime scene. And I need to know you will play by my rules or you won't step foot in there."

Tris thought about pushing him, releasing some of the simmering tension at the base of her skull with a good screaming match. But there was something about the look in his eyes that gave her pause. This wasn't her Bear, her lover. This was Detective Eaton, one of Chicago's best detectives. She took a deep breath and nodded, the fight going out of her. She figured it was bad if he was willing to go to the lengths he had so far.

Tris looked past him and into the marble foyer of her old home, suddenly hesitant, blanching a little as her skin lost what little color it had left.

Four turned to the policeman by the door. "Could you give us a minute?"

The cop nodded and headed down the steps. Four's demeanor gentled.

"Tris, you don't have to do this," he stated softly to her, reaching up to cup her cheek with his hand, making her look at him and not through the door. "Do you want me to take you home?"

"What's in there?" she asked, her voice low as her gaze flickered over his shoulder and into the foyer. "I mean, what happened?"

Four stepped closer to her. "I really think you should just go home."

"No," Tris returned, trying hard to make her voice strong but failing, and she move a little toward the doorstep, Four's hand falling from her cheek.

She took another step closer to the threshold, then stopped, turning to Four and grasping his hand, holding on with a death grip.

Four re-entered the house but was stopped from going any further. He looked back to see his arm outstretched, Tris's too, as she still hadn't moved. He lifted his gaze to hers to see her eyes wide with fear.

She gave a silent shake of her head, and Four took that to understand she couldn't cross the threshold and enter her former home. He moved back to her, her arm relaxing, and he again cupped her face with his free hand.

"Tris, you really do not have come in. You don't need to see this," Four soothed.

Tris gave him a watery smile. "Thank you," she whispered, and she brushed her lips against his.

Four relaxed a little, thinking she had decided to go home or back to the office, so when she inhaled deeply and then crossed the doorway, he was surprised.

Tris froze again once she was in the middle of the entrance hall, her muscles tense, and her eyes swinging around the space almost frantically. She took another shaky breath, then wished she hadn't when the copper scent of blood filled her lungs.

Was that her imagination? Or had someone being bleeding to the point of death nearby?

Her hand flew to cover her mouth, almost as if she was trying to stop the smell completely, and she turned to ask Four about the blood.

Her question fell as her eyes fell on her portrait Caleb uncovered earlier.

She gave a surprised whimper as she focused on her younger self. She didn't realize her feet were moving until her fingers brushed against the canvas, feeling the texture of the oil paint built up by the artist to capture her image when she was just 15.

"That's an awesome painting, babe," Four said softly, moving closer to her. "You should bring it back to the house. We can hang it in our room."

Tris acted like she didn't hear him, her eyes roaming over the picture, her mind wandering back to her childhood spent in his house.

Tris turned silently to look at the covered painting behind her, and again, her feet moved, seemingly by themselves, but she stopped before she got too close.

Her eyes darted to the door beside the marble staircase. She could make out movement in the room beyond, and she looked back to Four.

"In there?" she asked, her voice shaking with emotion.

At Four's nod, she stood a little taller, almost bracing herself to enter the room.

She moved forward slowly. Her mind was screaming at her to stop walking toward that room, to turn and run from the house or at least into Four's arms where she knew she would be safe, but she didn't, and she continued on, her heels playing out an even staccato on the marble flooring, though in Tris's mind they were saying – don't go, turn back, run, run, run.

When the figure standing in the doorway turned to her, she stopped in her tracks.

"Tris, this is Detective Brantley. He's the guy in charge," Four told her gently before turning to Brantley. "Brantley, this is Beatrice Prior."

The pot-bellied man stepped forward, his hand held out. "Nice ta meet ya," he said.

Tris absentmindedly shook his hand, a thin smile on her lips.

"You didn't need to come down here, Ms. Prior. The fact that your brother is here is more than enough," Brantley told her, trying to be sympathetic to the young woman who had suffered so much in this house.

Tris whipped her head around to Four. "Caleb?"

At Four's nod, she turned back to the room and stepped into the once safe environment of her family dining room that was marred years before and had been marred once again.

"Tris, no!" she heard Caleb before she saw him, her vision blurring as she imagined her mom walking into the room from the kitchen carrying a large casserole dish.

She shook her head, dislodging the memories, and turned to face Caleb who was standing by the long walnut dining table, his frame obscuring her view of the body on the floor.

"You really don't need to see this," he said, stretching his hands out to stop her walking any further into the room, glaring at Four over her shoulder.

"Caleb, I'm a big girl now, you have to…" she didn't finish what she was saying as she side-stepped Caleb, and her gaze fell on the young girl still sprawled out on the floor.

The last thing she heard was Four and Caleb calling her name as she felt like someone dumped a cooler of iced water on her. She shivered in spite of herself at the chill it left in her bones. She could almost feel the blood leaving her face, drawing down her body as her eyes rolled back, and she slumped to the floor.

Caleb reached her first, his hands stretching out to catch her as she crumpled to the hardwood flooring, but he was not quick enough to stop her head from crashing into the dark oak with a sickening thud.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?" Caleb yelled at Four, cradling Tris close to his chest. "She did not need to see this!"

"And you really think I could stop her?" Four returned, kneeling down beside Caleb and moving Tris's hair at the back of her head to reveal a small lump forming before his eyes.

"Don't touch her," Caleb hissed, pulling his sister's unconscious body closer to his, tears building in his eyes against his will.

Four recognized the need in Caleb to protect Tris, to shield her from the things he couldn't, and his feeling of inadequacy. The guilt Caleb carried over what happened so long ago was on full display and Four didn't want to push him any more than necessary.

"Caleb," Four said gently. "Let's get her out of here. You know this house better than anyone. Is there somewhere we can take her until she wakes?"

Caleb nodded once and wound an arm under Tris's legs, easily lifted her as he stood. When his balance wavered for a second, Four caught his shoulder and guided him until he stood firmly upon his feet again.

He moved quickly from the room, Brantley stepping aside from the doorway, and Four following him. Caleb swiftly crossed the marble hallway and to a set of light wood double doors. He struggled a little with the knob until Four reached around him and turned the rounded handle, pushing the door open, and letting Caleb enter first.

Four walked over to a large couch, covered with a dust sheet, and pulled the fabric off so Caleb could settle Tris onto the plush coverings.

"Can you get a glass of water?" Caleb asked Four not looking at the taller man, his eyes intent on his sister as he laid her gently onto the cushions of their parents' favorite couch.

Four was hesitant. He knew Tris would need something when she woke. He wanted to be there when she did, but he had a feeling Caleb would not leave his sister's side, either. He reluctantly strode from the room and instinctively opened a door further down from the dining room, entering into the large kitchen.

After opening several cupboards, he found some glassware and filled a glass from the faucet before retracing his steps through the dining room and through the door that led into what clearly was the living room.

When he re-entered the room, Tris was sitting up, talking softly to Caleb, reassuring him that she was fine, and begging him to stop fussing over her.

She smiled weakly to Four when she noticed his reappearance and gratefully took the offered glass from his hand, noting that it was shaking slightly, identical to her own.

After a few minutes, she asked, "Do you know who she is?"

Four shook his head. "Not yet, but forensics will do their magic, and we'll soon have a name."

Tris looked up to Four, her next question sticking in her throat. "Is… is it the same guy?"

Four looked between her and Caleb, debating lying to her, but knowing she would find out eventually. "I think so," he finally answered.

"How?" was her simple question.

"There are certain similarities that can't go unnoticed. Same build and hair color. Same cuts. And..." he stopped himself and pondered, did she really need to know everything that bastard had done.

"What?" Tris asked, swinging her head from Four to Caleb. "What don't you want to tell me?"

She watched as Four and Caleb exchanged glances.

"Come on, you know I'll find out eventually," Tris insisted.

"We think he changed her eye color. Made her wear contacts to match your eye color," Caleb told her.

Tris blanched, the little color that had reappeared in her face draining quickly at his words.

"We don't know that for certain," Four quickly offered. "Not until we get any prints back from the contacts."

"Tris," Caleb started cautiously. "Those marks you have on your thigh…. do you think they could be his initials?"

Tris's eye widened beyond what Four would have considered natural at Caleb's question. "I think I'm gonna be sick," was all she said as she handed off the glass to Caleb.

"Yeah, I was," Four returned sympathetically, his hand rubbing her shoulder.

"No, really. I'm going to hurl," and she jumped from the couch and dashed from the room, Caleb and Four hot on her trail.

She opened another door which led to a bathroom and promptly lost her lunch down the toilet bowl.

Four crouched beside her, caressing her back gently, trying to give her what little comfort he could as Caleb stood beside them, the glass of water still in his hand.

Tris moved to lay her cheek on the tiled floor, needing something cool against her heated skin. As an afterthought, she hoped the cleaning company still visited her old home like they were instructed to. She could see both Four's and Caleb's shoes as they waited with her for her nausea to pass.

Several seconds past, the only sounds in the small room where her somewhat labored breathing.

"It's to remind me," she said eventually, her voice strangely detached. "So I won't forget."

"What is?"

"His initials. That's what he said as he was carving them."

Four lifted his gaze to Caleb's at her confirmation of what they feared. He vaguely hoped that this was a copy-cat and not the original man, but knowing the intricate details of the crime was not something a copy-cat would know, especially if those details were not available to public. Four again felt the need to read what was in the original police report.

"Tris, why don't you let Caleb take you home?" He wasn't ashamed that he sounded like he was begging. He had work to do, and he couldn't concentrate if she insisted on staying.

Tris slowly sat up, her eyes shifting between the two men before she relented and nodded.

"Thank you," Four smiled and stood, offering her his hand so she could also stand.

Tris again took the glass Caleb was still holding and cleaned her mouth with the water before spitting it into the sink.

"My keys are in my car. Can you bring it home?" she asked Four.

"Sure, babe. You know I love to drive your car," Four returned glibly.

Tris gave him a small smile before kissing his cheek. She lifted her hand and stroked her thumb over the area she had just touched. "Don't be too long."

"I'll be home before you know it," he smiled back.

Tris nodded and turned to Caleb. "Let's go, Caleb."

…


	23. Chapter 23

Happy Wednesday!

You guys know the deal by now: Thanks to new readers for the alerts and favorites, keep'em coming guys.

Eternal gratitude to cjgwilliams for her continuing support and excellent beta skills. I would also like to thank her friend, and I hope fan of this fic, for some info about Chicago for those of us who think a brief layover at O'Hare (over 10 years ago) does not make me all-knowing when it comes to that great city.

Okay, so on to Chapter 23...

* * *

Chapter 23.

Tris was curled into the corner of the large, squishy couch in Jack's office. Her legs were drawn tight against her body with her arms wrapped around her shins, hugging her thighs to her chest. Her head was turned, resting on top of her knees while her gaze was lost.

"Tris," Jack's gentle voice probed, trying to bring her back to the room, to this moment.

When Caleb and Tris had arrived back at the house, she immediately closed herself off in her room. Caleb had sought out Jack, knowing his sister needed to talk through what they both had seen at their childhood home. Jack had taken the time to talk to Caleb first. Not only to get the facts of what had happened, and to help Caleb talk through what he'd seen, but to draw out the emotions it stirred up in the young man.

Jack had then journeyed up to Tris's room, knocked on her door demanding entrance until she reluctantly opened up to him. They had argued about her need to talk to him about the events of day for the better half of an hour, Jack eventually giving up and leaving her with her ghosts. His heart ached for her and her refusal to admit she needed any aspect of help.

So he was surprised beyond words when he had opened the door to his office a few hours later to timid knocking and the small frame of Tris. Her eyes were wide and swimming with unshed tears and her whole demeanor screamed _'I'm lost and I need help'_.

"Tris," Jack said again, and this time he noted a flicker of recognition in her stormy eyes.

Tris slowly focused her gaze on Jack bringing herself back to the moment. At his small smile, she lifted her head.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

Jack just nodded. He knew Tris, had been her therapist for eight years, and he understood how hard this was for her.

"You wanna start again?" he asked her, knowing her train of thought had been interrupted for too long. Whatever she had been trying to say to him a few moments ago had been bypassed as her memories took over.

"Sure," her unnaturally quiet voice sounded. "What was I was saying?"

"I asked you how you felt being in your old home again," he answered, his voice tender.

He watched as her brow creased slightly, as if she was really concentrating on her response. "It was surreal," she finally answered.

Jack observed as her eyes began to flicker, as if she was watching some movie playing that only she could see.

"I half expected them to be there," she continued.

"And what about when you entered the dining room?" Jack probed.

He could see the moment his words registered in her brain. The way her body tightened, her muscles clenching as if waiting for the command to move, to run.

"I…I…" She struggled to put her thoughts into words and she closed her eyes against the images dancing before her.

But this was worse…

 _There was blood everywhere: The walls. The floor. The table top. But it was the bloodied handprints on her body that drew her eyes. Large palms with long, thin fingers, branding her. Some clear, other smudged._

 _He moved again, a hand inching slowly, the gleam of a knife blade flashing in her eye._

 _The sensation of the sharp blade against her soft, giving skin was something she had become accustomed to. The burning had become a welcomed distraction as her senses concentrated on that, and not what she knew was about to happen._

 _His rough hands collected the blood from her wound and smeared it across her hip bone. She could feel her life-giving plasma drip, running a small trickle down to the apex of her thighs._

 _He kissed his way down her chest and over her stomach, carefully avoiding the smudges of red he'd made. Down, down until his nose was buried between her legs._

She unfolded her legs and stood, her hands pushing into her hair, holding the strands out almost manically. She inhaled loudly, knowing her hold on her emotions was slipping as she shook her head, willing the imagines away.

She moved away from the couch, over to the large window and settled herself in a chair there, Jack's eyes on her as she repositioned herself.

He waited until she settled again, knowing her eyes would be on the water of the lake, her go-to place when she needed space, needed to calm her nerves, and needed to re-center herself.

"I feel guilty," she eventually said, her soft voice wavering on her admission.

"Why?"

"For a lot of reasons," she provided. "I lived and they died being the most prominent."

Jack nodded at her answer. This was to be expected.

"I feel guilty about the burden I put on my family; on The Dauntless," she continued.

"They love you, Tris," Jack reasoned. "Your health, your welfare, it's no burden to them."

She was quiet again, the body of the girl found in her dining room today flashing before her.

"That girl," she whispered. "She died because of me."

Jack felt his heart almost break at her words. He'd been a psychiatrist for a long time, almost 20 years now, and he'd had some pretty horrific cases. He knew the guilt she felt was nothing new to people who had been through half of her experiences, but to hear her utter those words, her guilt over a girl' death – a girl she didn't know - with everything else she was going through, this just seemed like it could be the thing that completely broke her.

"You know she didn't die because of you," Jack reasoned, needing to bring her back from the edge he felt she was inching toward.

"You don't know that. I don't know that. Four doesn't even know that," Tris shot back, her voice now hard.

"Tris, this guy who raped…"

"Don't!" she erupted, pushing herself to stand again and turning her body to his. "Don't say that word!" She could feel her body's natural response to flee; to escape Jack's inquisitive words kicking into gear. Every inch of her was screaming to run, to hide from the one word that sent her spiraling down a hole of agony, degradation, and unrelenting fear.

"What do you think when you hear that word? What does that word mean to you?" Jack asked tentatively. This was something they'd never really discussed and he was intrigued at her response.

She paced erratically before him, warring with herself; fighting the need to remain behind the tall wall she had built in an attempt to keep herself distance from probing questions.

But her need to keep her darkest thoughts secret crumbled slightly, overpowered by a voice within her that whispered she needed to do this, needed to give voice to her fear.

"That word means… hurt and pain. It's violent and visceral. Its humiliation and shame. Its fear. I hate that word. It means victim. It means terror." She almost hurled the words at him, her need to hide finally giving way to her need to heal.

Jack watched as she walked before him. Her eyes held an almost frantic look as she voiced what she felt, her voice trailing off at her last, short sentence. He could almost see the fight seep out of her as she finished.

The room was silent again as Jack jotted something down on his ever faithful notepad. Tris turned her body again to face the window, her eyes wandering over the estate through the window.

She could feel her body buzzing, her nerve endings seeming to ignite with energy. She needed to move, to do something, to hurt something.

She moved stealthily toward the door, unconsciously using her abilities to ease her movements, her hand upon the brass knob before she even realized it herself, never mind Jack.

"I have to go," she said, again her voice low, trembling with emotion.

"Tris, we're not done," Jack reasoned.

"I know. But I really need to go. I'm sorry."

Her voice cracked on that last word and she fled the room.

Tris moved through the hallways as if possessed. She had no clue where she was going, she just trusted her body and her instincts.

She blinked twice, her vision finally sharpening, and she found herself in the large gym, standing in front of a large B.O.B freestanding punch bag.

She hit out instinctively, her fist making contact with _Bob's_ chin,the satisfying feeling of the hard surface beneath her clenched hand welcomed by the buzz surging through her body.

Her limbs moved as if independent of her body as she took her frustration, her fear, out on the fake torso before her. She lost all sense of time as pictures flashed before her eyes. Her parents, that dining room, the face of the man who was intent on destroying her; body and soul, her broken body lying in blood wishing her life was over.

She stopped when the torso broke from its polyethylene pole. Adrenaline coursed through her body and she bounced on her toes, shaking out her hands and twisting her head to pop her neck muscles.

"Tris."

She turned at his voice and, at the look in his eye, her adrenaline seeped from her body.

"How long have you been here?" she asked, her body starting to cool and she began to shake a little.

"Long enough," Four said, his eyes dull with his own hurt at what she was going through.

Four stepped closer to her, his hand brushing her shoulder, pulling her toward him.

She sank into him, no longer having the energy to hold her own body up and relying on him to do that for her. When he wrapped his arms around her, she sobbed; a deep, soul-wrenching sound that cut him to his core.

He fell with her, lowering them both to the floor, and he berated himself for his inability to hold her, to remain strong for her.

He held her closer as she curled into him, cradling her against his body. She was shaking more now, her tears soaking his shirt. But he held on, trying to envelope her body with his. To be the one she could lean on while she fought through her grief.

…

Four stirred in the bed, trying hard to stay asleep just a little longer but failing. His eyes flickered open to the early morning sunshine pouring into the room through the barely covered windows.

He turned his head slightly to check the time. Still early enough to relax in bed, he noted, and he looked back to the blonde beside him.

The last few days had been rough on her, especially after the gruesome discovery of the body at her old house. On the outside, she was strong and in control as she ever was, but sometimes, when it was just the two of them, that forced persona slipped, and Four saw her as the vulnerable and frightened girl from eight years ago. The image of her collapsing against him after beating her frustration and fear at the situation out on a B.O.B in the gym the previous night would stay with him forever.

After Caleb, Zeke, and Four had informed Mason of the grisly find at the Prior house, Mason ordered extra guards on the building and assigned one to follow Tris everywhere, whenever she left the house. Of course, this had not gone over well with Tris, and she bitched about it constantly, to the point of threatening the poor man protecting her with both bodily harm and a life with no chance of reproducing.

Forensics finally had a name for the girl, Rachel Stanley, and Four was present when her parents were informed of her death. She had been a high school student with good grades, a cheerleader, and popular with her fellow students. Four could also imagine Tris's biography before her ordeal being almost identical. Apart from those facts, the thing that set Tris apart was her family owned one of the largest business corporations in America and headed an elite assassin group.

He moved again, turning onto his side, and he wrapped his arm around Tris's waist and pulled her back against his chest. She mumbled in protest at the movement until she settled back against him, and Four smiled, his lips brushing her shoulder.

He closed his eyes again, content to just lay with Tris secure in his embrace, until loud banging shook the door to their room.

Tris groaned and pulled herself out of his arms, rolling onto her stomach and burying her head under her pillow.

"Wake up, Prior," a deep voice called and Four recognized it to be Uriah's. "Come on, are you awake," he continued with a couple of harsher raps on the wood.

"Is your gun handy?" Tris's sleepy voice came from under the pillow.

"Violence is not always the answer, Blondie," Four smirked but, at this moment, he, too, was thinking of ways to seriously maim the man outside.

"Tris! Tris! Tris!" Uriah started chanting, each word punctuated with his knuckles on the door.

Tris flung back the comforter of the bed and stormed over to the door, mumbled obscenities as she moved, and Four winced when he heard the words _nails_ and _balls_. When her hand fell on the brass door knob, he called out, "You might want to cover up!"

Tris glanced down at her semi-naked body, her only item of clothing being the boy shorts panties she used as pajamas, and she still considered opening the door. _That would teach him!_ But she moved and grabbed Four's t-shirt from the floor and quickly pulled it over her body.

She yanked open the door. "What the fuck, Pedrad?"

Uriah was grinning, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "We're wasting time," he rushed. "Get your shit together, we're going on a road trip."

"What?" Tris returned, shaking her head to rid herself of the last remnants of sleep.

"It's gonna be a beautiful day, full of sunshine and blue skies. And I got a burning need," Uriah explained, his whole face animated with his exhilaration. He flashed his eyes past Tris to Four still in bed. "Morning," he greeted with a slight wave of his hand, as if he hadn't just rudely awakened the pair.

"A burning need for what?" Tris asked quizzically.

"Joliet Quarry, baby!" was all Uriah said, his grin super wide now, and his arms out-stretched as if that explained everything.

Which, of course, it did to Tris. "Really," she said, her own smile growing at Uriah's explanation, and her body catching his enthusiasm.

"Yep. Breakfast in 15 and then we hit the road," Uriah instructed, and then turned to leave. He took a few paces away and then swung back to face her. His face that had been so animated a second ago, looked concerned for a moment.

"That is, if you want to go," he said, his voice unsure all of a sudden. "I mean…I know it's been…well… you know…after…" He struggled to find the words to convey to his friend his worry about her and what she was going through.

"I'll meet you in the dining room," she said, dismissing what he had said. While she appreciated his sentiment, she just wanted to forget, even if just for a day, recent events that were threatening to take over her life again.

Uriah offered her a small smile before turning and continuing down the hallway.

Tris shut the door and turned back to face Four.

"Joliet Quarry?" he asked.

"It's this place we go to sometimes to unwind and let loose," she explained as she moved back to the bed. She crawled up the comforter, smiling seductively at him. "We have fifteen minutes," she added, her gaze dipping to his naked chest.

"No way, Blondie. Don't pull that look on me," he said before quickly rolling out of the bed so she didn't start something that could take all day to finish. As much as he wouldn't mind a quick tangle between the sheets, they only had 15 minutes and he had no idea what the day held for him; besides, his stomach was demanding to be fed. "Get off the bed and into the shower," he instructed her as she lay provocatively across the bed.

"Bear, come back to bed," she answered, her voice dipping seductively as she lazily ran her fingertips along the length of her bare thigh, knowing her legs were one of his biggest downfalls, instead of doing as he asked.

"Nuh-uh, Tris," he chastised gently, moving away from the bed, not completely trusting her to not use her lightning speed abilities on him. "But if you get in the shower, I might join you there," he added.

"Oh, watersports. I like," Tris smirked, sitting up slightly.

Four shook his head at her but watched as she moved from the bed and over to the bathroom, moving as sensually as she could, swaying her ass before she disappeared from view.

He moved through the room, straightening the bed covers, to giving her some time to start her morning routine before he, too, entered the bathroom. He smiled at her soft singing in the shower as he stood before a sink, his hand rubbing lightly at the covering of hair across his lower face. He was pleased that she was in a good mood. They'd been fleeting over the last few days.

He reached for his shaver but stopped when he heard tapping on the glass of the shower cubicle. He turned to see Tris watching him. She shook her head and beckoned him with her finger, a smirk on her lips and a gleam in her eye, and who was he to refuse her.

Her lips attached to his as soon as he opened the door of the shower, her wet hands grasping at his shoulders to pull him in and toward her body.

"We don't have time for this," he groaned when she finally moved away from his lips, her mouth moving down his neck and to his chest to latch onto his skin just below his left nipple.

"Then you'd better be quick," she challenged, her hand reaching for his member and she smiled when it seemed to leap eagerly into her hand.

He held her head softly in his hand, noting she'd opted not to wash her hair, the long tendrils piled high and kept in place with a large clip, and tilted her face up to meet his own in a quick, intense kiss while she leisurely pumped his dick.

"I thought we were being quick," he mumbled against her lips.

"I'm just waiting for you to get started," she goaded.

He took her at her word, lifted her up out of the spray of the set showerhead and against the cool tile of the shower. _This never gets old with her,_ he thought, and he hoped it never would, as she moved her legs up to encase his hips, rubbing herself sensually against his rapidly growing dick.

He palmed her breast as she rolled her hips slowly, his thumb sweeping over a nipple that reacted instantly to his touch. His mouth followed his thumb and she reached again of him.

"I love your dick," she cooed in his ear, "it's like silken steel."

Four shuddered, his body reacting to her words almost as much as her body.

"It loves you, too," he breathed out against her breast, feeling her position him at her entrance. In one swift move, they were joined and instead of savoring to moment, like he usually did, he moved instantly, drawing out and pushing back with a rapid pace. They needed to be quick.

"Yes," Tris drew out, her head coming back to meet the tiles of the shower.

Ten minutes later and Tris grinned at Four though the mirror in the large walk-in closet. He was looking beyond gorgeous in his faded jeans and dark green plaid shirt. He rolled the sleeves a couple of times at the cuffs as he returned her grin, "What?"

"You're awfully distracting, ya know," she said, her fingers moving swiftly through her blonde strands as she twisted and manipulated her hair into a braid.

She watched as his eyes wandered down her body, stopping briefly on the length of thigh her jean shorts displayed, before meeting hers again in the reflected glass. "I could say the same."

He grabbed his baseball cap from a shelf to his left and lifted the yellow and white stripped tote she had filled with two beach towels and some sunscreen.

He He

"You ready?" he asked with a smile.

"Almost," she returned as she fastened her braid with a hair elastic. "Just need some sunglasses."

Four's grin widened as he held up her favorite pair, which were encased in a duck-egg blue box.

"Well, aren't you just the smart one?"

"Make sure you remember that," Four laughed as he leaned down to kiss her briefly before leading her from the room.

…

They made their way through the large house until they entered into the dining hall. Tris smiled and waved to her friends she moved to the buffet carts to pluck a bagel from the large pile of various breads and walked over to the toaster. It looked like they had commandeered a large table to plan their day. Christina, Marlene, and Tori were eagerly discussing some detail as Uriah and Zeke were arguing over something. While she was waiting for her bagel, she watched as Four piled his plate high with bacon, sausage links, eggs, and a tall stack of pancakes. Tris shook her head, amazed he could eat such crap and still remain in good shape, but then again, between The Dauntless training and exercise regimes and their own extracurricular activities, she figured he had plenty of opportunities to work off all those calories he ingested.

Once her bread was lightly toasted, she grabbed a few individual containers of cream cheese and a handful of peanut butter packets, and then moved over to the table occupied by her friends.

"Hey Tris," Tori beamed to her as Tris kicked out the chair so she could sit. "Is Four joining us at the quarry?"

"Yeah," Tris returned her smile. "I'm abducting him for the day."

"Ooooh. Do you think he'd abduct me, if I ask nicely?" Christina asked, her eyebrows wriggling suggestively.

"Give it up, Chrissie. You know I don't share," Tris said without looking at her crazed friend as she spread the soft cheese on her bagel.

"You are such a bore," Christina moaned before taking a bite of her bacon.

"And what about Will?" Tris questioned, one eyebrow shooting up.

"Oh my God, Tris," Christina replied, her face surprisingly calm. "You would make Will's year if you agreed to a threesome."

Tris shook her head at Christina, a smirk forming on her lips.

"Who's having a threesome?" Four asked with a lopsided grin, noticing the two guys at the table's sudden interest in the girls' conversation. He placed two cups of coffee on the table, pushing one over to Tris as he slid into the seat beside her.

"You offering?" Christina beamed at Four.

"Ignore her, Four. She's a little deranged this morning," Tris told him as she snagged a rasher of his bacon and broke it up over the cream cheese on her bagel.

Four watched her as she squirted a packet of peanut butter onto the plate next to her bagel, the same time as she took a bite from of her breakfast.

"Your eating habits scare me," he said with a shake of his head.

"Well, at least I won't have a coronary with mine," she returned, indicating to his plate, before taking a grateful gulp of her coffee.

"What took you guys so long?" Uriah complained. "We almost lost Tori because of you two."

Tris smirked to Uriah before opening her mouth to answer him.

"Don't bother," he stopped her. "I know by the look in your eye why you were late and we don't need any details."

"He doesn't speak for all of us," Christina rushed out, her eyes darting between Tris and Four.

"Give it up, girlfriend. It's never gonna happen," Tris laughed.

"Okay, lunch is all prepared," Will declared as he got closer to the table. He was wheeling two extra-large Coleman coolers, one in each hand. "Zeke, there's just one more box to pick up."

Zeke nodded his head as he stood from his seat. He collected his used dishes and headed over to kitchen, while Uriah was eyed the coolers set by Will's feet.

"I hope there's gonna be enough there," he said concerned.

"You have got to be kidding!" Marlene exclaimed, her eyes wide. "There'll be enough food in there to feed a small country."

"Maybe I should check, just to make sure," Uriah grinned, standing from his seat and moving closer to the coolers.

"Back away from the food, Pedrad," Tris warned, her voice low and holding a small degree of menace, as she stuffed the last of her bagel into her mouth.

"Okay, okay," Uriah relented, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "But if there's not enough, I'm eating your share."

"Yeah, you keep on believing that," she grinned, standing from her seat and finishing her coffee.

Tori swiveled her head when she noted Gavin by the door to the dining room. "Looks like the cars are ready," she informed the group.

"Cars?" Four queried turning to Tori.

"Yeah, our very own superheroes haven't grasped the power to fly yet, so, ya know, we have to drive to get where we wanna go," Will grinned.

"You know," Four shot back to him, his eyes narrowing to Will. "You're hilarious. You should quit Dauntless and become a comedian or something."

Will's bravado shrank under Four's glare and he slid his tall body behind Tris. "Your boyfriend's kinda mean," he grumbled.

Tris was saved from making a smart remark by Uriah. "Come on, you guys. We're burning daylight here," he moaned, practically bouncing on his heels in his need to get the road trip started.

"I'm still eating," Four returned, spearing a rasher of bacon before doubling it up with a section of pancake.

Uriah turned pleading eyes to Tris.

"Why don't you guys go get all that food into the cars. We'll be there by the time you're done," she instructed diplomatically.

Uriah immediately turned around, happy with Tris's order and, grabbing the handles of both food boxes, left the dining hall.

"Rather impatient, isn't he," Four smirked before taking a sip of his coffee.

"He gets restless easy," Tris returned with her own smile. "I'm sure he has ADHD or something."

"Right," Four mumbled around a rasher of bacon. "I think I thought that about you at one time."

"Really?" she asked, scrunching her nose slightly.

Four just nodded as he finished his breakfast. "It kinda explain that reckless nature you sometimes have."

Tris tipped her head slight, as if taking his words into great consideration. "Nah," she eventually said. "That's just hormones."

Four laughed out loud at her reasoning, shaking his head before draining his mug of its dark liquid.

"Okay, Blondie," he said as he stood. "Let's get this road trip on the road."

…

Tris placed her sunglasses over her eyes as they stepped out of the large, red door. In the drive before them sat two Dodge Rams, one cherry red, one charcoal gray. Zeke, Uriah, Tori, and Marlene were seated in the red vehicle, waiting not so patiently for Tris and Four to exit the building.

They made their way over to other truck, the passenger and back passenger door open, waiting for them. Four slid, reluctantly, into the front seat while Tris hopped up to the seat behind him.

As soon as they closed their door, the truck beside them pulled out.

Tris watched with a small grin as Four lovingly brushed his hand over the dash of the vehicle. "Nice ride," he said to Will, obviously thinking the truck belonged to him.

"It is," Will agreed, his gaze shifted briefly to Four before returning to the road.

"Are you thinking it's time for a new car, Four?" Tris asked, sitting forward in her seat and wrapping her arms around Four's shoulders.

Four patted her clasped hands for a second before turning slightly in his seat. "Hey, seat belt on!" he demanded.

"Oh, don't be grumpy," Tris teased. "Will is an extremely cautious driver."

"It's not him I'm worried about, it's the other idiots on the road," he reasoned, unclasping her hands so she could settle back in her seat. She smiled as Four began to quiz Will on the specs of the truck, rolling her eyes at Christina at the 'man talk'.

"Another reason for a new car," Tris commented, when he again seemed impressed with whatever Will was telling him. "Why are you so reluctant to get one?"

"Why are you so insistent on buying me one?" he shot back.

"I'm not, Four. You probably have enough funds to buy your own car," Tris answered with a shrug.

"Yeah, another beat up car like my Buick, maybe."

"Four," Tris said cautiously. "Did my uncle ever discuss the wages you would earn while working for The Dauntless?"

"It never came up," Four answered. "Why?"

"Well, let just say you could buy a pretty flashy ride now and still have no money worries for a while."

"That good, eh?"

"Maybe you should check your balance," Christina joined in the conversation with half a smile.

"Maybe I should," he grinned back.

"Surely the pay from the police isn't that bad, Four. I'm certain you could have been able to get a newer model or something," Will asked.

Four looked sideways at him before saying. "My car and I have been through a lot," he finally answered, cryptically.

"Oh," Tris muttered, sensing Four reluctance to talk about something personal with Will. "Well, your car definitely has its pluses," she offered.

"What's that?" Christina asked.

"A huge back seat," Tris replied, wriggling her eyebrows.

Four chuckled softly at her reasoning, turning in his seat slightly to look at her. "Yeah, maybe we'll try it out someday," he grinned.

"You mean to say you have never… in the back seat?" she asked, her eyes wide in surprise.

"Not with you," Four returned with a sly grin.

"Oh, real slick, Bear," Tris laughed.

An hour and half later, the small convoy pulled up to a chain link fence that spanned a deserted, run-down road.

Four watched as Uriah moved smoothly out of the truck in front and crossed over to the large, sophisticated lock on the gate of the fence. A few seconds later and the lock was in his hand and he was opening the gate, waving the two vehicles forward.

"Am I about to do something no respectable policeman should do?" Four asked cautiously.

"That depends," Will returned.

"Sure, the place is locked up for reason," Christina provided.

"And the lock on the gate is to keep the riff-raff out," Will added with a half-smile.

"But since the place is privately owned…" Will continued.

"And the company that owns it is practically run by your girlfriend," Christina butted in.

"I think what they're trying to say is: The Prior Group owns this place. We'll be fine," Tris finished.

By this time, Uriah had closed and lockup the gate again and they continued down the broken, half reclaimed by nature, concrete road.

Before long, the trucks were parked and the inhabitants poured out, stretching muscles, and smiling; anticipating a day of fun, water, and relaxation.

Four was instantly in love with the place.

The large area spread out before him, so far he couldn't see it in its entirety. What he could see was a vast area of shimmering, sapphire blue and glass-like water, surrounded by high cliffs of limestone, the rock gleaming in the brightening sunlight. From what he could see, the cliff-tops were lush with vegetation, vibrantly green with specks of color dotted sporadically, and trees and bushes of varying heights.

Immediately to either side of him there were areas of grass, some where the blades were sparse, others where they were luxurious and full of life.

The girls congregated to set up base, moving away from the trucks to a glassy knoll, each spreading large blankets on the weed infested ground.

While Four followed the three guys down to a large, shed-like structure, that looked strangely out of place. Its sidings too new to match to derelict road they had driven down just minutes before.

Again, Uriah made short work of the padlock on the door and soon Four was helping the other guys carry a large, aluminum-hulled row boat, down to the water lapping gently against a grassy bank. Will secured the boat, tethering a rope to a wooden stump close to the edge of the water, while Zeke, Four, and Uriah jogged back to the shed for the other boat.

Once both boats were secured, the guys joined the girls. Four grinned to see Tris had stripped off her camisole top to reveal an electric blue bikini top. He loved she wasn't afraid to show her body, despite the scars that marred her otherwise perfect skin. He had come to understand she was well-practiced in that often bravado persona she portrayed. Her scars were more than scars, more than marks created by someone who had killed her parents and violated her body. They represented the person she had become, the strength of character she had, but they also terrified her.

He could only imagine what she saw when she looked in the mirror. He could understand any of her self-doubt because he had, at times, had those thoughts himself. He was the person he was today because of what his father had done in the past. They were both products of situations way beyond their control.

But here she was, proud of her body, and he hoped, proud of the person she had become, and his heart swelled with that knowledge.

"What you smiling at?" her voice rang in his ears.

"Nothing," he grinned back, reaching out and drawing her into his arms. "You look amazing."

"Well, aren't you just full of flattery," she smirked.

Four snorted a laugh as she settled her body against his, resting her head on his shoulder.

"As much as I love this lovey-dovey shit," Uriah's voice penetrated their little bubble. "We came here for a reason and it's time to get it on."

"What did we come here for?" Four asked Tris, his breath making stray strands of her hair dance slightly.

"My brother and your girlfriend have this weird way to have fun," Zeke started. "They think it's fun to climb the highest cliff and jump off."

"What?!"

"Cliff-diving," Uriah provided with a reckless smile. "It's such a rush."

Four pushed Tris away from him, holding her at arms-length while he gazed at her. "Are you insane?"

"Not today," she replied glibly.

Four swung his eyes around the area again as the rest of the group made their way over to the tethered boats. This time, his gaze took in the height of the cliffs.

"Hey, are you okay?" Tris asked, her voice showing her sudden concern.

"I'm fine," he answered absentmindedly, his eyes still not meeting hers.

"Come on, Four," Tris encouraged, her hands pulling at the buttons on his shirt.

He raised his hand, stopping her movements. "What are you doing?"

"If you wanna diving fully clothed, that's up to you. But I would recommend stripping down to your board shorts," she explained.

"I'm…I'm not gonna jump off a cliff, Tris," he returned, her voice shaking slightly.

"Why not? It's exhilarating. Gives an awesome adrenaline rush."

Four looked wildly around the area. "Because…because…"

"Hey," Tris said, raising her hand to rest her palm against his cheek. "What's wrong?"

Four's gaze shifted to the group settling themselves into the boats. "You remember me telling you about my fears?"

Tris grins to him. "You mean your four fears?"

Four's eyes snap back to hers, a gentle smile pulling at his lips. "Yes."

"Yeah, I remember."

"One of them is a fear of heights."

* * *

 **A/N:** It's been a bad week for me, emotionally and physically, so I'm just warning you guys that next week's update may be a day late. Although most of this fic is already written, Chapters 23 and 24 needed a complete re-write, due to the location change of the story, and I've haven't had the time I would have liked to re-write Chapter 24. I'm working on it now though, but I also need to take in to consideration that my beta has a life and isn't just sitting around at home, waiting for my emails with an almost completed chapter attached. I will do my best not to disrupt my update schedule, just saying sorry in advance if I slip.


	24. Chapter 24

Happy Wednesday!

I'd like to say thanks to everyone who sent well-wishes via PM or reviews after last weeks update. I'm sure this story has the nicest, caring readers out there. It was a rough week for me but everything is back on an even keel now and after an intense Saturday afternoon writing session I finally managed to get something that didn't completely suck on the page.

Special super huge thanks to cjgwilliams who beta'd this in record time so you guys could enjoy an on-time update.

And welcome to new readers! Yes, this story is still bringing in new readers - how awesome is that!

And, as always, thanks to the guest reviewers - I love the way Christina hits on Four as well :)

Hope you all enjoy some mindless fun with The Dauntless...

* * *

Chapter 24

Tris felt a bubble of laughter building in her stomach but, looking at the fear growing in his eyes, she forced it down. Just because she couldn't comprehend a fear of heights didn't mean it couldn't debilitate a person. Even someone as strong as Four, her Four.

"You don't have to jump, Four," she finally said with a small smile. "Just come up with us. You can see the whole quarry from up there. It's beautiful."

Four cast his eyes cautiously in the direction of the others, his anxiety levels rising within him. _Did he really want to show his weakness to the others?_ With Tris it was different. She understood fears borne out of situations they had no control over. But the others… Would they mock and ridicule him like people had in the past?

Part of him speculated that, no, they wouldn't. After all, they each had their own fears.

"Four?" Tris probed.

"Okay," he answered. "I'll come with you but I'm not guaranteeing anything else."

Tris smiled at him, that 100watt smile he loved to see, as her hands ducked under the fabric of his shirt, pushing the material up.

Four smirked back as he quickly unfastened the top two buttons so he could slip the shirt off over his head.

Tris abandoned her assistance in taking his shirt off, instead her hands reached for the buckle of his belt.

"You just love to get me out my clothes, don't you?" Four mumbled, his voice muffled as his shirt passed over his face.

"You know it," she grinned back, her lithe fingers now tugging on the snap and zipper of his jeans.

Four quickly toed off his sneakers then drew the denim from his legs, his green and blue striped board shorts riding low on his hips.

Once his clothes were discarded, and neatly folded next to her shirt and quickly removed shorts, they headed in the direction of the boats and their friends who were growing impatient.

They settled into the boats, Tris sitting between Four's thighs, leaning back into his arms, Tori sitting on the small bench at the front of the boat, as Zeke started pulling on the oars, propelling them gently through the still water following the other boat being rowed by Uriah.

"It's so peaceful here," Four commented, his arms wrapped tight around Tris as they took in the scenery.

"It is," Tori agreed. She smiled at the look of serene content on Tris' face. The younger girl had her eyes closed as she relaxed against Four, a small smile on her lips, and Tori again marveled at how good for each other Tris and Four were. She knew the Tris of old would have retreated in on herself after the discovery at her old home, most likely with a bottle of strong liquor, but instead she had tried to talk things out with Jack. How well that had gone was information she was not privileged to know, but some progress had been made she was sure of that.

Four reached out with a hand and trailed his fingers in the cool water. "It's pretty cold," he said bringing his hand back inside and flicking his fingers onto Tris's stomach.

"Hey," she exclaimed, jumping slightly as the cold water hit her.

"I'm just acclimating you to the temperature," he grinned.

"I know how cold it is," she returned sternly, shifting her body more to face him, the small boat rocking with her movement.

"Hey," Zeke called out. "Quit moving around."

Tris turned her head back sharply, narrowing her eyes to Zeke. "He got me wet," she complained.

"Yeah, it's not like that's not the plan," Zeke returned.

"But I wasn't ready," Tris grumbled, pushing on Four's arm.

"What ya trying to do, Blondie," Four asked, his smirk back.

"Push you in the water," she mumbled, her small hands now pushing on his side, trying to move the bulk of his body over.

Four laughed, along with Tori and Zeke. They all knew she could push him over the side of boat easily if she used her divergence, and the fact she was trying to do so without her abilities was like a fly trying to push over a cow.

Four grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands off his ribs, and twisted them both so her back was pressed against the side of the boat. Again the boat rocked.

"Hey," Zeke admonished again, using the paddles to try and settle the craft again.

"I think you want to go into the water," Four grinned to Tris, ignoring Zeke completely.

Tris giggled as she leaned into him. "I think there are better ways to get me wet," she breathed out, her breath hot against Four's ear.

"Yeah, but we've had this discussion before," Four grinned back. "Not in public."

Tris's brow creased slightly. "When did we have that discussion?"

"Did we not?" Four looked down at her, a smile threatening to erupt when she felt him pushed against her again, her body moving dangerously close to the edge of the boat.

"Hey," Tris grinned. "You're cheating." She wriggled her wrists free of his soft hold and placed her hands flat against his chest, pressing hard to shift the tenuous balance between the two of them.

The boat rocked again as Four shifted back on the narrow seat and Zeke scolded them again.

"We're almost there," Zeke said. "Can't you keep the childish behavior at bay for a few more minutes."

"Childish!" Tris exclaimed, turning her sharp gaze on Zeke.

And she moved quickly, her hand reaching out and she pushed against his chest, adding a little something and he fell off his narrow seat and onto the floor of the boat, the paddles sliding from his grasp. Luckily, they caught in the oar locks and didn't slip free.

Zeke looked up at her, his ass on the bottom of the boat and his legs up and bent over the seat he'd been sitting on. His face was a picture of astonishment and amusement. Tris's eyes were wide and her mouth had formed a 'O' as though she was surprised herself. Then a snort of a giggle erupted from her, which grew until she was laughing uncontrollably.

Zeke turned to look at Tori, expecting her to say something to Tris, but her eyes were glistering with laughter as well, while she tried hard to school her features.

"You okay?" Tori asked him belatedly.

"Fine," Zeke grumbled.

"What's going on over there," Christina's voice gliding over the water to them.

"Nothing," Tris answered as she carefully stood. "Zeke just lost his balance and fell off the seat."

"How did he lose his balance?" Uriah laughed, amused at his brother's embarrassment.

"I didn't!" Zeke shot back.

Tris grinned down to him as she offered him her hand.

"Just sit down," Zeke instructed as he struggled to sit up.

"What's wrong," Tris taunted as she slowly shifted her balance from one foot to the other. "Don't want me to rock the boat."

Zeke glared at her as she continued to sway, the boat moving with her.

"Four!" Zeke cast his eyes beyond the annoying woman in front of him, to his partner, still sitting at the back of the boat. "Just get her to stop."

"I'm sure you don't need me to fight your battles," Four said, his eyes shining at the distress of his friend. When he watched Zeke swallow nervously, Four wondered if Zeke was prone to seasickness.

"Hey," Four called to Tris. "I thought you wanted to go cliff-diving or something."

When Tris turned her upper body to look down on Four, Zeke flashed him a grateful smile.

"You both are no fun," Tris grumbled shifting her feet in the small space to turn completely.

Four took this opportunity to reach forward and grasp Zeke's hand, intending to help pull him back to his seat.

Tris watched Four tilt forward and grinned. "Oops!" she called out, tangling her own feet deliberately. Four switched his target and moved his hands, standing to steady Tris instead and she used his momentum to fall into him.

The boat rocked haphazardly as the two figures standing tried to regain their balance.

Tris clung to Four. She hadn't wanted to go overboard, just wanted to have a little fun with Zeke.

Zeke's face grimaced as he looked up Four and Tris. He caught how tightly Tris held on to Four and decided to take matters into his own hands. Turning slightly, he gave Tori a quick wink in warning before he moved swiftly, turning his body sharply to the side of the boat, putting all his weight behind his movement and the boat tipped.

Four and Tris flew into the water as if in slow motion, Tris screeching all the way, as the boat rolled, Tori and Zeke also falling into the water.

Tris pushed herself up, spluttering as she broke the surface. "What the fuck, Zeke," she called out.

"The look on your face was priceless," Zeke replied with a laugh, dragging his hand over his wet face.

"You're lucky I like you," Tris shot back as she started to move through the water.

"That was pretty funny," Four added as he swam beside her.

"Funny, eh?" she said. "I'll show you funny."

She glided easily through the water, a sweet smile on her face, and Four instinctively moved back from her.

"Tris," he warned.

"What's wrong, Bear, scared of little ole me?" she taunted.

"Damn straight," he agreed. "I've seen you work. I know what damage you can do."

"You think I would hurt you?" she asked incredulously, her forward movement through the water stopping as a look of hurt flashed across her face.

Four stopped backing away. "Of course not, babe," he rushed out, afraid he had hurt her feelings. He realized his mistake a second too late.

Tris reached forward, her body moving swiftly through the water, and her hands landed on his shoulders. She pushed down with slight pressure, thrusting Four under the water.

Four's mind whirl as his head and shoulders were submerged, his body falling deep under the water. He should have seen that coming.

He opened his eyes in the clear water to see her legs moving before him. He propelled himself upwards, his arms locking behind her knees as he moved and he lifted her out the water before him.

Her laughter was truly music to his ears as she sailed through the air before she landed with a loud smack back into the water.

He turned away from her, making his way to the bank of the lake, a smirk on his lips as he saw their friends laughing at their antics.

Will and Christina were pulling themselves out the water and Uriah was securing their boat. Zeke pushed their up-turned boat to the bank with Tori swimming lazily beside him. Four swam over to help Zeke and the two of them righted their boat so Will could secure it next to its partner.

When done, the group turned back to watch Tris swim toward them. "You're mean," she grumbled, her eyes glued to Four's.

"You started it," he shot back, one corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. He leaned forward offering her a hand, which she took skeptically. He pulled gently, helping her out the water and onto the grassy bank.

"Truce?" he asked, an eyebrow lifting in question.

"Truce," she agreed, giving his hand a firm shake.

They each grinned to the other.

"Come on," Uriah urged, already heading down the narrow trail that led up to the cliff top, his impatience showing.

They moved down the trail, the soft murmur of conversation mingling with the chirping of birds and the constant sounds of insects not seen.

Tris held onto Four's hand, her fingers tangling with his. "So, have you decided?" she asked, her voice low.

"Decided what?" he returned, moving to steady her has she climbed over a small boulder.

"Whether you're gonna jump or not," she clarified. She moved closer to his side, her other arm moving across her body to grip at his bicep.

Four swallowed nervously. "Not sure," he said quietly. "I'll decide when we get there."

"Okay," she whispered, tilting her head slightly to look up at him, a gentle smile spreading across her lips. She stopped walking, forcing Four to stop as well, and she slowly grazed her hand up and over his shoulder, turning her body fully to his.

Tris's fingertips brushed into the scruff growth that cover his chin and cheeks, her soft hand caressing as she tilted his head down so she could brush her lips against his. Her kiss was tender, a loving touch of lips barely pressing together but hoping he understood what she was trying to express; that whatever he chose to do, she was okay with it. Her hand slid from his cheek to the back of his head, her fingers delving into his short hair, holding his head to her as she demanded a little more from him. He gladly gave what she wanted, sweeping his tongue into her mouth to dance with hers.

Four could hear Uriah up ahead, calling at them to hurry, and Tris pulled away from him. She smiled sweetly, giving one more chaste kiss before she turned and pulled Four after her, heading to the top of the cliff.

She was right, the view from here was spectacular. The vast quarry sprawled before him, the blue of the water sparkling off the bright limestone of the cliffs.

"I'm going first," Uriah said, and Four could see his body practically humming with excitement. He backed up slightly then took a run to the edge of the cliff. His gleeful shout echoed as he dropped into the water with a soft pop.

Four counted as Uriah leapt from the cliff until he heard him enter the water. 1 -2-3-4. He swallowed. That's quite a drop!

Tris looked over to the edge of the cliff, peering down to a joyful Uriah. "Awesome!" He called back up to them, before quickly swimming to the side away, ready to started his climb back up to the cliff.

Marlene next flew past her as she flung herself from the cliff, her screech loud throughout the quarry and her blonde hair flying wildly behind her.

Tris grinned as she looked back to Four.

Four's mind began racing as Will next jumped over the edge, his thoughts battling with himself. _Could he do this?_ Rationally he knew this must be safe. His newfound friends wouldn't just leap into the unknown with knowing they were safe. But the thought of stepping out into nothingness, that was something else.

He turned his head back to Tris. She wouldn't ask him to do something she wasn't prepared to do herself.

All too soon it was just the two of them standing on the cliff, the calls of the rest below them encouraging them to join them. She held her hand out to him, offering him her support if he was going to this.

He recalled the night he told her about his father and how she had voiced her trust in him. Could he return that trust now? Could he face his fears with her at his side just like he hoped she would face hers with him?

He could do this.

As he watched her, she smiled. Finding her impish smile infectious, he felt the corners of his mouth tug slightly upward before he berated himself. How could he be smiling just before jumping off a cliff? This girl would surely be the death of him. But, he would follow her gladly, he knew it.

He grasped her hand tightly and she moved back to him.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her eyes gleaming with eagerness and encouragement.

"Let's just get it done before I change my mind," he rushed out.

"Four, you don't have to do this," she said sincerely.

"I know," he returned with a smile and then he was running, pulling her along with him.

The air rushed around him as he dropped, his stomach seeming to lift into his throat. He felt Tris squeeze his hand as she let out a gleeful shout of enjoyment. His other arm flapped aimlessly beside him as they fell, hitting the water with a loud splat. He could distantly hear the voices of their friends, laughing and shouting as he pushed up to the surface.

When he broke the surface the first thing he saw was Tris's wide, bright smile.

"How awesome was that?" she asked, moving through the water toward him.

Four swallowed a few times as Tris wrapped her arms across his shoulders, holding him close to her.

"Whatever you say, Blondie," he spluttered out, hoping his heart rate would calm or he feared he would have a heart attack.

"Come on," she said into his ear and steered him back in the direction of the bank.

They climbed out as Uriah came sailing through the air again, this time turning his body in a full circle. "Wanna go again?" Tris asked, a small smile on her face.

"I think I'll sit the next one out," he returned, collapsing his body on the grassy ground. Tris squatted beside him. "Want me to stay with you?"

"Go," he ordered. "Go have fun."

Tris pressed her lips to his again, her grin still on her face, before Uriah pulled her off him.

"Come on, Prior," he called. "Stop wasting fun time."

"Go," Four said again, pushing her gently from him. Her wide smile was the last thing he saw as he closed his eyes and relaxed back into the grass. _Yes,_ he thought. _She would definitely be the death of him._

…

The rest of day flew by with the seven Dauntless agents flinging themselves from the cliff top in a variety of ways, each trying to one-up the next in their daring decent.

Eventually, they made their way back down the lake to their base, eager for food and relaxation. Early afternoon found them lounging under the sun, talking nonsense and enjoying each other's company.

At Marlene's eager suggestion of, "We should go to Navy Pier," the group eagerly packed up the Coleman's and made their way back to the SUV's.

Four offered to drive back into the city and Will was all too happy for him to take the wheel. Tris grinned at the way Four lovingly caressed the dash and the steering wheel before he starting up the vehicle.

…

When the group hit the pier, a chorus of voices declared a ride on the Ferris Wheel was in order. Tris instinctively knew pushing Four to another height was out of the question.

"Oh, Four. Can we ride on the carousel?" she asked, giddy with excitement as she hopped up and down beside him, practically swinging on his arm.

"Tris, don't you think we're a little..."

"Pleeease," she added with the pout for good measure, layering it on so Four wouldn't look like he didn't want to ride the Ferris Wheel.

"Seriously, Tris," Uriah joked. "The carousel?"

"Hey, Four won't deny me what I want," Tris shot to her friend with a smile.

 _I'm so screwed,_ Four thought as he glanced down at the woman beside him, her pouting full lips, and her glistening expressive eyes, knowing there was nothing in the world he wouldn't do for her. And knowing she was making this small sacrifice for him made it all the better.

"Yay," Tris giggled when Four headed in the direction of the carousel. "We'll meet up with you guys later," she shouted over her shoulder as the rest of them headed over to the big wheel.

Four turned back to her and patted at the back pockets of her jean shorts. "You know, if you wanted to cop a feel you just had to say," she laughed as he pinched her ass.

"I'm checking for money," he told her with a sly smile. "Feeling your ass is just an added bonus."

She lifted a perfect sculptured eyebrow. "Do I look like the kind of person who carries money around?"

Four shook his head at her, wondering, not for the first time, how she managed to survive without keeping money on her, as they moved over to an ATM. Four huffed at her, positive she had no real respect for the value of the dollar, anyway.

He slid his card into the slot and punched in his PIN number, not caring that Tris was looking over his shoulder. When his balance flashed up in the screen, his hand shot out to brace himself against the metal surrounding the machine.

"Holy fuck!"

Tris grinned against his back. "That new car doesn't seem like a faraway dream so much now, huh?"

Four could only shake his head disbelieving. He could quit his job with the P.D. and still have plenty of money to live on.

"So is now a good time to tell you about the standard of living I'm accustomed to?" Tris commented as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Babe, I think I already knew that," Four returned, his voice a little shaky as he continued to make his withdrawal.

"Well, shucks. What is it that gave the game away? The car? The house?" Tris asked in mock seriousness.

Four turned back to her, his transaction complete and pressing a twenty into her shorts back pocket. "Nah, the fact that your shoes have their own individual room in that apartment you call a walk-in closet."

"Hey, buddy. Do not attack my shoes," she warned, poking a finger in his chest.

"Would I?" he asked, his arms open to her. "Especially that pair with the incredible heel. Man, they do it every time."

"Nice save," she grinned as they made their way over to the carousel.

Four couldn't stop the wide smile forming on his lips at the sight of Tris Prior, top elite assassin from The Dauntless, Vice-President of the Prior Group, and future mother of his children, as she laughed with glee as she rode a simple carousel. He could almost see the child she had been, though he was sure his mind was helped in this task by the memory of that picture Mason had shown them, the very picture that was now framed and standing on her tall dresser in their room.

He again cursed the man who had taken that brightness from her eyes. Yes, they glistened and sparkled with mirth, mischief, and at times, wickedness, but still, they were no way as dazzling as they had once been. Unbidden, his mind dredged up a subconscious memory of her from their early childhood, her eyes gleaming as brightly as they did in the portrait at her old house.

He reached across the space separating them and rested his hand on her thigh, taking his enjoyment from her over-excitement for the simple ride.

Tris interlaced her fingers with his on the top of her thigh.

"I can't remember the last time I rode a carousel," she told him.

"I don't think I ever have," he returned.

"Never?!"

Four shook his head, and Tris said, "That can't be right. You have to have been here before."

Four just shrugged in answer. If he had been here as a child, he couldn't remember. But then again, there seemed to be a lot from his childhood he seemed to have forgotten.

When the ride stopped, he helped her from her chosen horse, and they exited the ride, Tris stopping to look in the carousel gift shop as they went. Four considered himself extremely lucky that Tris didn't have her wallet with her, or he was sure he would be the proud owner of an 'I rode the Carousel at Navy Pier' t-shirt. And, god-damn him, he would have probably worn it for her as well.

They walked down the bustling pier, making little comments about the stores and diners they encountered before stopping when her eyes landed on a photo booth.

She grinned wickedly as she registered the extra-long curtain before she pushed him into the cubicle, closing the course fabric behind them, her lips crashing against his as she landed alongside him.

She quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head, his elbow hitting a wall of the cramped space at her urgency, and as she dropped the material to the floor beside his feet, her lips latched to his neck. Her fingers traced lightly over the defined muscles of his chest, raking over his nipples and Four groaned loudly in appreciation.

"Sssh, Four," Tris hushed him. "You'll get us kicked out." But she didn't let up on her torture as one hand moved lower and made quick work of his jeans zipper before dipping into his swim trunks.

"Shit, Tris," Four groaned as her hand wrapped around his length, her lips moving to cover his again to swallow his moans, as her hand began to move, tortuously slow.

All too soon, he was hard and needing release, but he stopped her, pulling her hand from him reluctantly.

"What's wrong?" Tris asked with confusion, looking into his eyes that were now several shades darker than his usual golden brown.

"I don't want to walk around the pier having come in my shorts, babe," he whispered against her neck as he returned her sensual caresses with ones of his own.

"Mmm, pity," she breathed out, her eyes closing again as his lips found her pulse point, and he began to nibble gently at her skin.

"Of course, your body is made all that much better to hide certain things like that."

"Yeah," Tris moaned when he bit down a little harder, and his hand repeated her earlier actions, unfastening her shorts and delving into her bikini shorts.

She automatically tilted her hips forward at his touch, knowing it wouldn't take long for Four to help her to that point where her world would explode.

Four intensified her pleasure by sucking harder on her neck, and Tris felt her legs grow weak.

Four chuckled softly as she leaned against him, his fingers stroking her gently before moving inside her.

"Four," she whispered hoarsely, and he moved them so he was sitting on the small stool with her astride him, opening herself to him more, though his movements were limited by her jean shorts. Of course, he didn't let that hinder him too much as he added another digit to simulate her more.

"Oh shit," she breathed out before latching her lips onto his neck again with the intent of leaving a mark.

"Sssh, Tris," he teased, repeating her earlier words.

Tris moved back a little, resting her forehead against his shoulder as her hips picked up speed against his hand, and his thumb grazed over the knot of nerves that was demanding attention.

Tris whimpered against him, pulling her lip between her teeth to stop calling out.

Four lifted his free hand from her hip and slid it under her tank top to gently cup her breast through the thin material of her bikini. He brushed his thumb against her distended nipple at the same time as he found that special spot deep inside her with his fingers, his other thumb again sweeping across her engorged clitoris.

And that's all it took for Tris to fly apart, her body convulsing as her orgasm ripped through her. Four captured her lips before she could scream out, hating to silence her cry of his name at her release, but not wanting to be booted from the pier.

His passionate kiss turned gentle, eventually changing to playful kisses, and Tris moved back, her eyes bright and her face beaming.

"What are you guys doing in there?" a voice called.

"Having our photo taken," Tris stated as calmly as she could.

"I don't see any flash," the bodiless voice returned.

Four looked down at his hand in Tris shorts. "Obviously, he's not looking in the right place," he whispered against her neck.

Tris giggled as she moved her hand into Four back pocket, which was a feat in itself, and she drew out some notes, which she quickly passed through the long curtain to whoever was on the other side.

"Be a pal?" she asked sweetly, and she heard a low chuckle as the person took the money from her and started to feed the machine.

Tris kissed Four once more before standing from his lap, her hand holding her shorts so they didn't fall, and she turned around, dropping back down against him just in time for the first flash of the photo being taken. She purposely grazed her bottom against his hard dick producing a tortuous groan from Four.

Tris held the strip of photos in her hand as they continued down the pier, smiling at the four pictures of herself and Four. Four was mumbling low beside her, Tris catching a few words of his rant. Something along the lines of _she had me almost ready to blow and yet she's the one who gets off._

In the first photo they are beaming at the camera.

The second, they are smiling at each other.

The third, Four was licking his fingers, and Tris rolling her eyes.

And the last captured them in a searing kiss.

"I think we should get them blown up, frame them, and hang them in the dining room," Four said sincerely.

"Oh yeah, I can just imagine everyone's joy at being faced with huge photos of me every day."

"Especially if they knew what we had been doing seconds before," Four returned.

"Hey, it's not my fault you find me irresistible," she grinned to him. "Just like it's not your fault you can't control yourself around me."

"I can control myself, ya know," he grumbled indignantly.

"Sure you can, baby," she smiled, her hand reaching out to land on his stomach.

Four's lips curled up slightly at her words. Her endearments for him were few, but they meant all that much more when she did say them. He turned his head so he could look at her to see her watching him.

"What?"

She continued to watch him, her eyes boring into him as if searching for something: something within him.

She moved her hand up from his stomach until she framed his face and then kissed him gently, unhurried but with an emotion that Four could almost feel pass into him through the touch of her lips on his and her tongue as it caressed his.

Acceptance. Trust. And, he dared to hope, love, though he knew she wouldn't say it, not yet. But he could feel it in the way she looked at him, smiled at him, and touched him. He knew she felt the same from him, but he too held back from saying those small words that meant so much. He didn't want to scare her, send her running like she had done before.

He just hoped he would know when the time was right, because he truly did not want to lose this feeling, and he especially did not want to lose her.

Eventually, she moved back from him, and in a hushed voice said, "Four" almost unsure, hesitant, and he held his breath, wondering if she was actually going to say those words. The air thickened between them, growing heavy, the bond tying them together almost becoming visible.

Tris again watched his eyes as they dilated a little at the timid tone of her voice. Her heart beat triple time, and she was sure he could feel it against his chest.

 _No,_ her mind screamed to her. _Not yet. I don't want to lose him like everyone else. I need him._

"I'm starving," she whispered, her lips curling up to hide the fear at what she had almost done.

Four exhaled, not realizing he was holding his breath. "Well, we can't have that now, can we, Blondie?"

"No," Tris returned, moving back from him slightly, glad he was ignoring what nearly happened, because she was sure he knew what she wanted to say, and she had a feeling he wanted to say it just as much as she did. She took a deep breath, the air between them suddenly feeling lighter than it had moments ago. "Your points on this date are seriously dropping."

"Now we can't have that," he laughed. "What's my prize?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"I haven't decided yet," she replied in all seriousness. "It depends on how many points you can score."

"Then will I score?" he asked with his lopsided grin.

"Well, I think that's pretty obvious," she beamed back. "But the number of your points will determine how you collect your prize."

Tris chuckled as Four's eyes seemed to glaze over at her words, his look taking on that of one lost in his own world.

"Come on, Bear. I need food," she said, noting a faraway look in his eyes. "Hey," she laughed. "I kinda lost you there for a moment."

"Nah, just lost in my own fantasies," he returned, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"Okay, you need to tell me more about these fantasies," she quipped.

"Are you gonna share?" he asked, looking deep into her eyes.

"It's not fun if you don't share, Four," Tris said with all seriousness as they went in search of food, Four with his arm relaxed across her shoulders, and Tris with her hand firmly in the back pocket of his jeans.

"What are you hungry for?" he asked as they passed a pizza stall.

"You," she smirked.

"Me?"

Tris nodded, her gaze catching his and he saw the desire building there.

"Just me?" he probed.

"No."

"What else do you want?"

"A couple of silk neckties and a jar of peanut butter," she grinned.

"Then what the fuck are we standing around here for?" he answered hoarsely, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder and he strode off to find their car, Tris's giggles sounding like music to him.

"What about the others?" she laughed.

Four turned once in a circle, his eyes roaming the area. "They can all fit in one car," he finally said, moving off for the exit again.

"Won't they wonder where we've gone?"

"Probably," he agreed, but refusing to go back.

"I'll call Christina from the car," she giggled.

…


	25. Chapter 25

Happy, Happy Wednesday!

Hope you are all having a great day! Life is good, people, remember that!

I'd like to apologize for offering you guys what can be considered a very confusing chapter. There is a lot of a characters memories here and I tried my best to not confuse you all. So, yeah, there's that...

Always, welcome to new readers, thanks for taking the time to read, favorite and alert this story.

My guest reviewers, you know you guys rock!

And last, but in no means least, super mega thanks to cjgwilliams for her beta'ing this crazed chapter. You are awesome, Chica.

And so on we go ...

* * *

Chapter 25.

Tris looked down at Four, a soft smile crossing her face at the contented look he wore in sleep. Her hand reached out to him and she gently rubbed at the dried peanut butter clinging to his chest, attempting to wipe it away without waking him.

Her eyes lifted to her silk stockings hanging from the headboard of the ornate bed, the next best thing she could find when she realized Four completely lacked in the silk necktie department, and she remembered his willingness and enthusiasm to be bound and dominated by her.

Her gaze dropped to his right wrist, which was still held within the confines of her impromptu restraints. She was surprised he had slept with his arm restricted, she knew only too well the feeling of being left tied to some part of the furnishings. She certainly didn't envy the pain he would feel when he was finally free.

 _I wonder if I will ever get to that point with him,_ she thought. Never before had she wanted her lover to have that much control over her, and the very fact she was thinking about submitting to Four, giving him her complete trust, both terrified and excited her.

She leaned across him, her fingers moving nimbly over the sheer material that was pulled tight, only to realize she had no chance in unfastening the knot which had twisted into an impossible bond because of Four's frantic movements during the night.

Tris closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, before opening them and concentrating on the air surrounding the knot, pushing the molecules to gently move the silk.

"Why don't you just cut it off?" she heard Four's sleepy voice ask.

"Do you have any idea how expensive pure silk stockings are?" she asked, flicking her gaze down to him to see a soft smile on his lips.

"I'm sure you can afford more," he returned softly, lifting his head slightly to flick his tongue out and swipe it across her bare nipple.

Tris shivered at his touch, a grin spreading across her lips.

"Yeah," she breathed out, and Four wondered if that was in acknowledgement that she could afford more stockings or in encouragement to him. He took it as the latter and moved his free hand behind her back to draw her closer, his tongue dancing across her skin to encase her other nipple in his warm mouth.

"Four," Tris whimpered as his hand moved from her back down to cup her ass, and her fingers wound into his hair. In that moment, both forgot about his bound hand, and they couldn't care less, engrossed in their mouths and bodies touching, as Four tipped his head back so she could capture his lips with hers.

Their kiss was gentle, unrushed, and Tris's hands slid from his hair to his face, holding his head in place so she could give his mouth the attention it deserved as her fingertips brushed delicately behind his ears. She couldn't stop her smile as Four trembled slightly under her, knowing a simple caress from her had such an effect on him was like the ultimate aphrodisiac.

She pulled back quickly, moving off Four completely, not paying attention to his protests as she scrambled around the room.

Four watched her open and close drawers as she clearly searched for something.

"What are looking for, Blondie?"

"Scissors," she returned quickly, moving into her closet.

"What's the rush?" he grinned.

Her head popped around the door. "Because if I don't feel your hands on me soon, it will not be pretty." And she disappeared again, swearing to herself as Four chuckled low in his throat, his other hand reaching for the silk wrapped around his wrist in an attempt to loosen the knot.

When she returned to the main room, Four twisted his head to look at her, his eyes widening at the knife she held in her hand.

"Whoa, babe," he rushed out. "That's a little drastic, don't you think?"

Tris shrugged, her eyes sparkling. "Don't you trust me?" she asked, almost innocently.

Four gazed at her, his body heating up at the sight of her completely naked and holding a switchblade in her hand. He wasn't sure what turned him on more: the potential danger of the blade or the fact that she was naked while holding the blade.

"Of course," he replied, amazed at how husky his voice sounded, even to him, and he watched as Tris shuddered at the sound.

"Hurry up," he commanded, and Tris was all too eager to comply as she moved closer to him and slipped the blade under the material against his inner wrist.

The coolness of the steel almost burned against Four's overheated skin as Tris guided it into the knot carefully, and he inhaled sharply at the sensation.

Tris tugged the knife outward quickly, the silk of the stocking slicing easily against her sharp blade.

She carelessly dropped the knife to the floor as Four grasped her wrists, tugging her toward him roughly, dragging her up against his chest and to his waiting lips.

After completely devouring her mouth, he pulled away from slightly so he could flip her onto the bed, securing her neatly under him.

His hand lifted to brush her hair away from her face, his finger grazing her skin with reverence.

"Tris," he said, his voice low and seductive and shaking a little with an emotion he could hardly contain.

"Four," she replied, just as softly, beaming up at him.

His eyes moved rapidly over her, taking in her every feature. "Can I ask you do to something for me?"

Tris froze a little, afraid of what he might ask. "What?" she asked, her voice barely about a whisper.

"Can you call me Tobias? You know, when it's just us," he asked.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think it would be nice to hear my name after all this time. To hear my name on your lips."

"I can do that, Tobias," she grinned.

He smiled before bringing his lips to meet hers again in a searing kiss.

…

Tris wandered through the house a couple of hours later while Four caught up with Jason over the phone about what he had missed from work the previous day. She knew he wouldn't normally be so desperate for this information, but it was the situation that promoted his need to be updated.

As she passed a room she hadn't entered for a while, she paused, and then opened the wide, solid oak doors slowly to reveal a sunny room, one wall lined with windows, and several instruments strategically placed within its walls. She wondered if anything had changed within the area and the urge to enter overpowered her, almost as if her younger self was drawing her in.

She loved the music room. It was one of her three favorite places in the huge house; her bedroom and the library being the other two.

This room reminded her of her mother. Natalie Prior spent hours at the grand piano teaching her only daughter to play, and as much as Tris moaned and groaned about the hours she spent indoors, she loved that her mother had taken the time to teach her something herself. Natalie believed in music and the therapy it could provide a person, and she instilled this in her daughter. She was a patient teacher, ignoring and rerouting her daughter's complaints throughout their weekly sessions in the music room. Her skill and patience showed in the fact that Tris still knew her way around the piano, even though she hadn't had a lesson in years or had even played recently.

She crossed the room and lifted the wooden lip of the piano slowly, not wanting to disturb the peace of the room. She knew there weren't many people who actually came in here, and those who did mainly wanted peace and quiet, or a place to hide. The music room had gone silent in the years after Natalie Prior's death, and in this moment, Tris found that somewhat offensive to her mother's memory.

Tris's great, great grandmother was the one to insist on a music room when the house had first been built in the late 1800's, but over the years, the room became neglected. When Natalie married Andrew, Theodore asked his first daughter-in-law what she would like for a wedding present. Her answer was simple: to restore the music room. Natalie spent hours working on the restoration herself, choosing the décor, the furnishings, and adding the instruments because she strongly believed music could play a positive role in everyone's life.

The fingers of one of Tris's hands danced over the ivory keys she once knew so intimately, a melodic sound seeming to fill the room even though she wasn't even trying. She took a deep breath and let her fingers fly without thought, appreciating the solitude in the music room and the swell of chords that brightened it. Before she knew what she was doing, Tris slid onto the piano bench, her other hand coming into play and the tinkling of a distant tune became the full body of a classical piece she instinctively remembered.

She was lost in the music for the first time in years, so much so that she didn't feel the presence behind until she finished the classical concerto her mother taught, then instilled in her so many years before, with a dramatic flourish.

"Still got it, I see," a warm voice called, and Tris turned quickly on the bench, her mouth falling open in surprise.

"Matthew!" She called before she launched herself at her childhood friend, his arms coming around her to hold her close to his tall, lanky body.

"Hey, Tris. How have you been?"

Tris moved out of his arms, smiling at him before her grin fell, and she lifted her hand to slap him hard against his chest.

"Where the fuck have you been, Matthew?"

"Ouch, shit, Tris! That hurt. I've been out in the field, you know that," Matthew returned defensively, rubbing where her hand had struck him.

"Well, I've been going through some shit, and I needed you here," Tris huffed with an over-exaggerated pout. Matthew took that look and put it through his Tris filter and determined she hadn't been too serious with her exclamations of woe.

"Ah, I'm touched," Matthew laughed. "Truly, I am. Just don't let Caleb know."

"Matthew, I love Caleb, you know I do. He's the brother I never wanted. But you are my guy, my go-to guy, and you weren't here."

Matthew looked at Tris intently, his steel blue eyes meeting blazing emerald-gold, finally catching the turmoil there. He took her gently by her hands and moved her over to a large, Victoria love-seat styled couch that was covered in a rich, maroon velvet material before lightly pressing on her shoulders and making her sit, following her a moment later.

"What's wrong, Tris?"

Tris gave a snort of laughter. "I don't even know where to begin." Matthew raised his eyes to hers, and she sighed. "Well, there's this guy..."

A half hour later, Tris had brought Matthew up to her current situation, not leaving anything out.

Matthew shivered when she recounted the death of Rachel Stanley at her old home, as well as how the girl was found and how Tris came to arrive at old Prior House shortly after, despite others trying to make her stay away.

Matthew knew everything that happened eight years ago and, along with Caleb, he held himself somewhat to blame for not being there for her and not realizing something was terribly wrong. He used to see Tris every day, and at the time of her ordeal, he had been too occupied in his first love to register anything was wrong. And when he finally noted he hadn't seen her for a while, his girlfriend suggested Tris was away at some luxury spa or having fun with her own boyfriend. He assumed Caleb had returned to college and these suggestions had eased Matthew's mind, and he hadn't thought much more about it until that fateful day.

Matthew, along with his parents and older sister, were one-time neighbors of the Priors and the children of both families had grown up together. His parents still lived next door to the now abandoned mansion. Matthew was two years older than Tris, but that hadn't stopped them from becoming best friends at a young age, after Matthew had taunted Tris's ability to climb the huge oak in his backyard.

Of course, Tris had taken his challenge and climbed to the top of the tree, only to slip on her way down, falling to the ground and breaking her arm. Matthew had been terrified his parents would blame him for the young girl's injury, but Tris convinced both sets of parents that it was her idea to climb the tree, and Matthew had valiantly tried to stop her, not the other way around.

From that moment, they were inseparable, Tris's high intelligence making up for her lack of years.

 _The day when he realized Tris was not out of the country or spending ample amounts of time with her own boyfriend started like any other. However, when Tris's dog, Jacob, escaped the house after her assaulter left, he ran to Matthew's home. Matthew immediately knew something was wrong when the poor dog wouldn't stop barking at him, and he nervously followed the Jack Russell back to the Priors' house, calling out to his dad over his shoulder as he went, suddenly terrified. His father, noting the apprehension in his son's face and voice, followed closely behind._

 _He would never forget the smell that greeted him as he entered through the back door in the kitchen. The overwhelming stench of death almost overpowered him, but Jacob fastened onto the leg of his jeans with his teeth in an earnest grip. Matthew had had no choice but to allow the small dog to pull him further into the room and the house, even though he wanted to do nothing more than run or at least exit the home for fresh air._

 _He almost buckled as he entered the dining room. The room, which had once been so welcoming, had become a nightmare. Blood was everywhere, stark against the evergreen walls and the rich, dark wood of the floors._

 _He watched as Jacob trotted over to a figure lying lifeless on the floor, leaving Matthew motionless and shocked as the pale, barely clothed form of his best friend finally registered in his mind._

 _He was frozen in place, unable to tear his eyes from her naked upper body, not seeing anything except the blood and wounds covering her, as his father rushed past him and into the room. He could hear the rushing of blood in his ears and time seemed to slow down as he watched his dad desperately feel for a pulse against the blood-stained neck of his 15-year-old neighbor, his other hand waving frantically at Matthew after a moment._

 _Matthew could see his dad's mouth moving, talking, clearly saying something to him, but the words did not connect and made no sense. All he could see was his best friend's abused body, bleeding, raw and broken with what looked suspiciously like a gunshot wound to her left side. It was horrific, and he fought the bile that rose in his throat, threatening to spill, as he watched the scene unfold in slow motion in front of his eyes._

" _Matthew!" His dad's abrupt, loud, voice finally registered through his wall of shock and in that moment, time sped up. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears again, pumping in time with his heart, and his head lifted so his eyes could meet those of his father's._

" _Call 911. She still has a pulse."_

 _That spurred Matthew into action, and he dug into the pocket of his jeans for his cell phone. He called for the authorities as he made a move closer to her, kneeling at his friend's side, and studying exactly what was wrong._

 _The array of crisscrossing slashes marring her torso was frightening, the wounds old and new at the same time. Blood spread in all directions over her pale body, and there was hardly an inch of her normally clear skin visible. Thick, red liquid was flowing from the small hole to her side, and Matthew swallowed at the sight._

 _There was a gossamer thin sheet barely hiding her lower body, splotches of blood stark against the whiteness of the material, aligning with the apex of her thighs, and Matthew's fingers inched closer to the sheet, ready to lift it to find the source of the blood._

 _His motion faltered when his dad rushed into the kitchen and returned moments later with a handful of kitchen towels, wadding them up and pressing them against the wound at her side in an effort to staunch the blood flow. Matthew tried not to be discouraged at the fact that the towels were immediately filled with blood, and he stayed by her side, hoping and praying she would make it through this horror._

 _Tris flinched from the pressure and slowly opened her eyes, and Matthew smiled down to her, his hand re-routing and reaching out to touch her forehead._

" _Don't," his dad whispered, his hand flashing out to stop his son from touching her._

 _Matthew nodded, understanding what his father was saying with that one word. Don't disturb any evidence._

" _Dad?" Tris croaked out before closing her eyes again, and Matthew looked over to his father, a question in his eyes. Immediately, the older man stood quickly and went in search of her parents._

 _Jacob lay down beside her, a soft whimper emanating from him as he rested his head against her arm, his eyes sorrowful as he watched her._

 _Matthew absentmindedly stroked the animal's head. "She'll be okay, boy," he reassured the small dog, though in truth, he was trying to reassure himself._

 _Tris's eyes opened again, and she whispered, "Caleb."_

" _You want me to call Caleb?" Matthew clarified, but again, her eyes were closing as she battled consciousness._

 _Matthew could hear the sirens by now in the distance as he lift the phone which was still in his hand and pressed the speed dial number for her brother._

 _Tris had been taken to the local hospital after a few EMTs were bitten by Jacob attempting to protect his master. After they battled with the animal who was so insistent on ensuring Tris's safety, Matthew picked the dog up, comforting him with words he had heard Tris use. The words didn't make much of a difference though, and he and his friend's beloved pet sat together on the front step as the other emergency personnel arrived._

 _While Matthew and Jacob were dealing with the EMT's and arrival of the emergency personnel, his dad found the bodies of Andrew and Natalie Prior in a room to the side of the dining room. Both bodies were decaying, proving they had been left there for a while. He recalled the last time he'd seen or spoken to any of the Prior's was more than a week ago. Had it really been that long? Why had no one commented on that? But then again, Andrew and Natalie were known to just take off on vacations. Andrew was always busy with the Prior Group and tended to just leave when his schedule eased up a little._

 _Matthew's father shuddered when he realized if Tris's dog had not come running and barking for Matthew, it could have been weeks before anyone realized something was wrong, and Tris would have met the same end her parents did._

 _He turned to look at the back of his son, who was still seated on the marble front steps, cradling the dog to him, mildly pondering how the animal had finally escaped. He couldn't come up with a solid answer._

 _Soon, the number of people in the house tripled as Theodore Prior, Tris's grandfather, arrived with his two other sons, Caleb, and an array of other people the officer in charge was not happy with._

 _Caleb moved over to his friend. "She was alive?" The question was asked in a voice that Matthew hardly recognized._

 _Matthew could only nod, his body beginning to shake as the realization of what had happened there finally seeped into his brain. He had been running on adrenaline and shock before, but it was hitting him now, and it was even more horrifying than it had been when he first entered the once peaceful house._

 _Theodore walked over to the lanky teen and clasped his hand around Matthew's shoulders as he noticed the young man going into shock. "You need anything in this life, you come to me, son. You hear me?"_

 _Again, Matthew could only mutely nod his head._

 _Theodore turned to Caleb. "We need to get her transferred from the hospital back to the house. Let's go."_

" _Wait," Matthew stalled them, a hand landing on Theodore's arm. "She was shot, cut, and probably raped. She needs to be in the hospital."_

" _What she needs to survive is at the house," the older man returned cryptically._

 _Matthew swung his head from Caleb and back to Mr. Prior. He'd heard of the mysterious things that happened at the Prior Estate, but he was never invited there. When he questioned Tris once about this, all she said was she couldn't talk about it._

 _Matthew watched as the older man seemed to study him, appraising him, and he asked, "Do you want to come?"_

 _Matthew nodded again, bewildered at the invitation, and promptly left with Caleb and Theodore, hopping into Theodore's Mercedes before they sped into the night._

 _Tris was moved back to the great mansion under the guise that the grand house was actually a private hospital. She looked beyond awful, and on the verge of death, she had been placed in what Matthew could only describe as a huge, marble sunken bath tub._

 _He spent the next week in the house, spending hours sitting beside Tris as she lay unmoving, encased in some hard element he did not understand and could not grasp. He moved freely through the large house, meeting men and women in all different stages of their lives, but still, no one told him what this place was or why his friend had been brought here from, in his opinion, a perfectly acceptable hospital and beyond adequate medical care._

 _It was while he was sitting quietly in the library a week after Tris was brought back to the mansion when the door opened, and Tris walked in, alive and well, and as far as he could see, unscathed physically from her encounter. It was that moment when he decided whatever this place was, he would be indebted to it for the rest of his days. How she had survived, he would not understand until later, but the fact she had was a miracle in and of itself._

 _In fact, it was Theodore Prior who gave him a chance at the life he was living today. After Matthew graduated college from MIT, it was Theodore who spoke to him about joining The Dauntless. For the past four years, Matthew traveled the country, discovering new technologies and developing them to meet the needs of The Dauntless, and he loved every minute of it. He especially loved that he got to spend so much time with his childhood best friends. While they worked hard, they balanced themselves out by playing harder._

"Hey, where did you go?" Tris smiled warmly at him, and Matthew was brought back to the moment in the music room with his friend who he nearly lost years earlier.

He shook his head, willing his thoughts and memories away as he looked at Tris, who was alive and vibrant despite all the things that happened. Matthew suspected she was alive and vibrant in spite of what had been done to her, and his friend's _joie de vivre_ was stronger because of it, though he knew Tris had her dark days and times, just like anyone else.

"You know how I space out when you go on," he smirked to her.

"You are a cruel man, Matthew Keo," she returned, her expression mock-stern.

"And you know how I always listen to everything you say," he countered seriously and watched as she relaxed back onto the plush upholstery of the couch.

"So how has Mason taken this new development?" He asked cautiously.

"He put a guard on me. A guard, Matthew, like I'm completely useless and fragile and…" she shuddered dramatically before exclaiming, "... a girl!"

Matthew suppressed his chuckle at her melodramatic response. "That bastard!"

"My thoughts exactly."

Matthew looked over to the piano and then back to Tris.

"So, you're playing again," he stated.

A soft smile played on Tris's lips. "Not really, this was the first time," she admitted, raising her thin shoulders slightly.

"But still, it's been a long time since you even looked at a piano," Matthew stated before surmising. "I take it this new occurrence has something to do with the new guy you have hooked up with?"

Tris shrugged nonchalantly, but her smile grew at the thought of Four.

"When will I meet this wonder boy who has stolen my girl?" Matthew asked, feigning distress.

"Oh Matthew," she sighed dramatically. "A wedding attended by three teddy bears, a Transformer robot, G. I. Joe, and a frog, presided over by Caleb, does not make me yours." She bit the inside of her mouth as a smile threatened to surface.

"Yeah, and the fact you were seven, and I was nine at the time," Matthew added. "But you will always be the first girl I kissed."

"And, of course, the measuring stick for all the rest," Tris laughed, winking at her friend saucily.

"That goes without saying," he grinned back.

Tris moved closer to her longtime friend and snuggled against his side. "I really missed you."

"What? With all the fun you've been having, I'm sure my face wasn't even considered for a moment."

Tris picked at his jeans, tugging on a loose thread as she leaned into him. "Did Peter come home with you?" She asked timidly.

"You know he did, Tris."

Tris sighed deeply. "Was he with anyone while you were away?"

"Are you asking me if he's over you?"

Tris nodded against his chest, unwilling to comment on his correct assumption.

"I don't know what to tell ya, kid. Yes, he was with someone… or some people, but I can't answer your other question, Tris. Only Peter can."

"But what do you think? Because I don't need a repeat of last time."

Matthew's silence spoke volumes to Tris.

"Shit," she mumbled.

…

Four moved through the house looking for Tris. He'd finished with his call to Jason and felt he needed to tell her the outcome before taking the news to Mason.

The forensic results were back from the contact lens, and they were clean of any prints, which indicated to the police that Rachel Stanley had not chosen to wear these herself and needed assistance to place them.

In the mind of a detective, that, along with the placement of the body, the similarity in cuts and marks on it, and the ominous wording on the wall meant they were almost certainly dealing with the same guy who had committed the original crime eight years ago. Which in turn confirmed Tris was in danger, and that was what bothered Four the most this evening.

He wished she would just leave the country for a while, maybe take a little vacation on that private island of hers, and hopefully, take him with her. He wasn't above begging, either, especially if it meant keeping her safe and sound while the man who potentially killed her parents and scarred her for life was making a reappearance.

He noticed Caleb talking to a tall, dark haired guy who he hadn't seen previously, just by the door leading into one of the rooms where he, Tris, and his other newfound friends generally gathered. The guy was tall, probably the same high as he was, and around the same build. His skin seemed to be naturally tan, and he was clean-shaven.

"Hey, Caleb," he called.

Caleb turned at the sound of his name, then wished he hadn't. He groaned as Four came closer.

"Hey," Four repeated, ignoring the newcomer and getting straight to the point. "I need to talk to you in private."

Caleb looked at Four and then at Peter, wondering if he should introduce the two, as well as mentally starting a pool on when the fireworks would start. Caleb smiled and bit the bullet, knowing there was no way this would end well when Peter discovered who Four was.

"Four, this is Peter," he introduced. "Peter, Four is our newest recruit." He decided to leave out the fact that Four was also the new bedmate of his sister.

Peter held out his hand, a semi-warm smile ghosting on his lips, but it didn't reach his green eyes.

Four felt the hairs prick at the base of his skull as he took the offered hand and cautiously shook it. He flashed his eyes back to Caleb, hoping he would get he really needed to talk to him alone.

"I'll catch ya later, Caleb," Peter offered, and at the taller guy's nod, he turned and moved off down the hallway.

"Who's that?" Four asked, eyeing the disappearing man with suspicion.

"That's Peter Hayes. He's been an agent here for more than 10 years," Caleb replied, unable to keep the smirk from his lips at Four's innate reaction to Tris's ex-boyfriend.

With one last glare, Four turned his attention back to Caleb. "I've just heard back from Jason who heard from forensics earlier today. There are no prints on the lenses."

"Fuck!"

"Yeah, I'm thinking of just packing Tris up and taking her somewhere, not give her the opportunity to disagree or argue," Four confided.

"It'll never work. She's too suspicious. Nothing gets past her," Caleb reasoned as they moved down the corridor together.

"Yeah," Four acknowledged. "It's just a thought."

He rubbed at the static hairs at the back of his neck. "I'm gonna go find her," he said to Caleb and left before the other man had a chance to reply.

Caleb smiled and rubbed his hands together. After a moment, he turned back down the corridor in search of some unsuspecting suckers he could draw into his betting pool.

…


	26. Chapter 26

Happy Wednesday guys :)

Not gonna say much in this Authors Note just, thanks for your continuing support and welcome to new readers - yes, we are still collecting new readers. Almost up to 300 reviews! That's truly awesome.

Big thanks as usual to cjgwilliams, you continue to coax more out of me when I think I can't give any more.

And so on to Chapter 26...

* * *

Chapter 26.

Four glanced through the partially open door of a room he had never entered, almost passing by it completely until he heard Tris's bright laughter coming from within, compelling him to stop and find his girlfriend.

He pushed the door completely open to see Tris sitting on a couch extremely close to some guy Four had never seen before, and he resisted the jealousy that rose in his chest.

"Hey," he said, breaking into their conversation, and he was rewarded with a bright smile from Tris.

"Four," she sprung up from the couch and bounced over to him, her arms swinging around his neck as she pulled him into a kiss.

After she moved away, she turned in his arms to face her friend Matthew.

"Matthew, this is Four," she introduced.

"Ah, the man who stole my girl," Matthew smiled to Four.

Four swung his head from Tris to Matthew, wondering if this scrawny guy was the past lover he had heard so much about.

"Matthew, we've talked about this," Tris reprimanded, her voice teasing as she rolled her eyes at her friend's declaration.

Matthew sighed dramatically. "A guy can dream, Prior."

Tris ignored him as she looked back to Four before introducing him to one of her oldest friends, a grin forming on her lips at his perplexed expression about the exchange he just witnessed. "Four, this is Matthew, my best friend in the whole world."

"I thought that was Caleb?" Four asked, clearly confused.

"Caleb is my brother," Tris explained, waving her hand at the thought of her sibling. "Matthew is my friend."

"Which trumps brother," Matthew beamed.

Four offered Matthew his hand. "Well, boyfriend trumps brother and best friend," he returned snidely, wrapping his arm tightly around Tris's waist and holding her close.

Matthew's eyebrow rose at Four's statement and the almost growl in his voice, his eyes swinging to Tris in question at the man's obvious show of protectiveness.

Tris dismissed Four's choice of words with a nonchalant wave of her hand, and Matthew eased noticeably.

"We need to talk, Tris," Four announced seriously.

"Oh, I don't like the sound of that," Tris grumbled before moving back to the couch and tossing her body down onto it.

She watched as Four shifted his weight between his feet, obviously not comfortable with what he had to say. This went on for a few moments, and Tris's imagination got the better of her as she realized what this might be.

"Are you breaking up with me?" she asked him sitting straighter on the couch, disbelief apparent in her voice, and a little outrage, too. She felt a bubble of anger start to build within her, her thoughts running wild. _How could be want to break up with her? She was practically the perfect girlfriend, wasn't she? If you ignored the fact she was emotionally stunted and had a history that was less than ideal, that was._

"What?" Four exclaimed in surprise. "Don't be crazy, Blondie."

"It's just, I've started a lot of conversations with the whole, _'we need to talk,'_ thing and none of them ended well. Well, for the guy, at least."

"No, Tris. I'm not breaking up with you," he answered seriously, though inside he was smiling at her reaction. At least she was admitting there was a relationship between them that could break. That had to mean something. His feeling of insecurity when it came to _them_ churned within him, but he pushed it down deep, having other concerns more pressing at the moment. "I need to talk about what happened the other day."

"Hey, that was not my fault. How was I supposed to know you can't bend that way?"

Four had to chuckle at her statement, his mind flashing back to that moment, and a large, dopey grin forming on his lips. "Most people can't bend that way, baby."

"I can," Tris returned with a smirk.

"Yes, you can," Four responded evenly, his tone light.

"Guys, you do know I'm still here, right?" Matthew interrupted them.

Four's eyes widened, and he turned to Matthew, only just remembering they weren't alone in this large room he had never seen before. It was obviously a music room, exquisitely decorated and containing instruments he had never heard anyone play.

"Sorry."

Matthew smiled, thinking he might actually like this guy.

"So, Tris. We really need to talk," Four said again.

"Okay, so talk."

Four looked between Tris and Matthew. "I think it's better we talk alone."

"Matthew is okay, Four. We can talk in front of him."

"As long as it has nothing to do with your sex life," Matthew added in, just for clarification. "Because there are some things I just don't need to know about."

"Well, not a whole lot to talk about then," Tris grinned as she leaned over to Matthew and stage-whispered conspiratorially. "We have a LOT of sex."

"Tris, you forget that I know you. This information is nothing new to me," Matthew quipped.

Tris beamed as she turned to Four, ready for anything he had to tell her.

"It's about what we found the other day," Four informed her evasively before adding for clarification, "At the house."

"Oh," Tris whispered, her voice taking on a somber tone immediately as her mind was invaded with images of the girl and that day.

"What?" Matthew asked looking between the two.

"A dead body was found at my old house," Tris told him without actually looking at him, shrugging her shoulders lightly as she stared off into space.

"What!" Matthew repeated, louder this time.

"I don't think anyone else should know, Tris," Four said. "The fewer, the better."

"Matthew was the one who found me," Tris provided simply.

"He found you?" Four asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Tris's eyes locked with his, needing him to understand without her actually saying the words.

Four shifted his eyes to Matthew to see the other man looking intently at Tris. The look of concern was evident on Matthew's face and when he finally lifted them to meet Four's, he clarified, "I was the first one to enter the house after her parent's murder, when she was unconscious."

Four looked sharply at the scrawny man. "Wow." His eyes narrowed in contemplation. This could actually be a break for them.

"Not the words I would choose but… yeah," Matthew mumbled.

"Will you be able to look at some crime scene photos for me?" Four probed.

"Hers?" Matthew asked, pointing at Tris. "Because I really don't want to go there again."

"No," Four shook his head immediately, not wanting to put his girlfriend's best friend through that kind of trauma. "We'd want you to look at the new crime scene. I need to know how identical it is to the original."

"Okay," Matthew answered hesitantly, less than thrilled at that prospect.

"What did you need to talk about?" Tris asked Four, reminding his of his urgency to find her before he got sidetracked.

"The girl," he told her, reluctance evident in his voice. "The contacts were clean. Which makes us think the perp put them in."

"So he made her wear contacts the same color as my eyes," Tris stated, bile rising in her throat.

"That's just… wrong," Matthew added.

"Tris," Four started, his voice taking on a soft tone. "I wish you would consider getting out of the country for a while. Take a nice vacation somewhere, relax and be pampered."

"I second that," Matthew nodded his approval. "Seriously, Pix, you don't need to be around this."

"Pix?" Four asked.

"Pixie," Tris snorted with a shrug of her shoulder, glad Matthew could always make her smile, even in moments like these where she was forced to relive the horrors she had once experienced. "It's a pet name of sorts."

"And the fact when you were little, you told everyone you were gonna be Tinkerbell when you grew up," Matthew added, earning a snort of laughter from both Four and Tris at the ridiculousness of that thought.

An image of Tris dancing around in a green dress and fairy wings erupting into Four's mind, and he was transported back in time to his childhood.

" _Will you be my P'ta?" a tiny Tris asked him._

" _I'm not Peter Pan, I'm Spiderman," was his gruff reply, and he ran off down the hallway, shooting imaginary webs from his wrist. When he reached the end of the long corridor, he turned back._

 _Even with the distance between them, he could still see the tears welling in her eyes and her bottom lip trembling slightly._

 _He sighed, and then retraced his steps._

" _Do you have pixie-dust?"_

 _Tris nodded, a huge smile forming on her face as her chubby hand dove into a pouch tied around her waist. She carefully pulled it out again threw it into the air, green glitter flying everywhere and fluttering to the hardwood floor around them._

" _Well, come on. Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning."_

 _And he grabbed her hand, and the two of them ran down the hallway giggling._

"Four?"

"Huh?" Four shook his head, his eyes focusing on the grown-up Tris.

"You kinda spaced out there," she grinned.

"Sorry, just remembered something."

Tris shot him a quizzical look.

"I'll tell ya later," he smirked.

"So," Matthew interrupted them again, smacking his hands together. "Do you need any help packing?"

"I'm not leaving," Tris told them both. "I'm not running away. I never have before, and I won't start now."

"Tris," Four returned sternly.

"No, Four," Tris cut in her anger building. "This animal killed my family. He… he…" She shook her head, unable to say anymore.

"I just want you to be safe, Blondie. I don't want him to hurt you again." Her gung ho way of dealing with the fact there was someone out there who could very well be the guy who tortured her all those years before was getting old. Why couldn't she, just for once, let him do what he did best: Protect the innocent.

"I'd like to see him try," Tris scoffed. "I am not the same girl I was back then. I'm stronger and more deadly than he can ever imagine. And I am going to bring him down."

Four could see the resolve in her eyes, and he knew there was no way he could get her to leave the country until all this was over. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try. His shoulders tightened and he drew in a breath to begin arguing.

"Tris, why can't you let someone else take care of you," he asked, his eyes intent on her.

"I don't need anyone to take care of me. Have you not been listening to what I just said? I won't run and hide," she argued.

"I'm not asking you to hide…," he shot back

"Yes, you are," she interrupted. "You want, both of you want me to leave the country and leave this shit to someone else to deal with. I can't do that, Four, why can't you understand that?"

"And why can't you understand my need to keep you safe?" He knew his voice was rising but he couldn't stop his anger at her singlemindedness. Why couldn't she see she meant everything to him and if something happened, something he could have prevented, then he wouldn't be able to live with himself?

"I don't need you to keep me safe, I can do that on my own," she retorted just as loudly.

Matthew simply stood, watching them argue back and forth, liking Four more and more. This man wasn't someone to just rollover at Tris's demand and Matthew grinned, knowing Tris had finally met her match.

"Okay, with that decided, let me see the crime scene photos, and I'll tell you want I know," Matthew interjected, noticing Tris's determination and Four's stubbornness and knowing nothing good could come of their arguing. It seemed they were both as stubborn as the other. "I could help with research and shit like that. That's what I do."

"Matthew loves research. He really does. He keeps it under his mattress with his K-Y," Tris quipped, grateful her friend had interrupted. She didn't want to argue with Four, least of all about this situation.

"You are incredibly strange sometimes. Ya know that, right?" Matthew told her, his expression serious, glad to steer the conversation in another direction.

"Says the guy who still has his collection of Star Wars action figures," she returned glibly.

"Hey, they are vintage and will be worth a fortune someday."

"Man, you really have vintage Star Wars stuff?" Four asked him, his interest in Matthew's collection apparent from his tone. Matthew was clearly trying to defuse the tension between he and Tris, and Four decided to go along with it.

"My collection is legendary," Matthew smiled.

Tris shook her head, knowing she had lost the conversation, but she at least convinced Four that she would not run and hide from the pervert who was still out there.

"Okay, I'm gonna let you boys bond," she said, standing from her seat and giving Four a fleeting kiss. "I have a ton of work to do since I was abducted yesterday and forced to have fun."

And she swept from the room, leaving the two men standing, chatting about Star Wars, the finesse of a light saber and something about a Millennium Falcon!

…

Later in the day, Tris was heading toward one of the many rooms she could work from, her laptop and notepad in hand, ready to look over some emails George sent over and a few proposals she need to read before work on Monday. Her day off with her friends had been great, but now she needed to catch up on the important stuff that needed to be done.

"Tris," a familiar voice called, and she stopped in her tracks, whispering a silent prayer before slowly turning around.

Peter Hayes was a handsome man, his green eyes hypnotic, and his strong features so easy on the eyes. Tris could see how she was attracted to this man so long ago, what heterosexual woman wouldn't be? She felt a twinge of regret in her stomach. Not over ending their relationship, she knew that had been the right thing to do, but they'd had some great times and maybe she could have handled the situation a little better.

Her quasi-relationship with Peter had started out as a fuck-buddies kinda thing, a way of releasing built up energy and unwinding after an exhilarating mission, but Peter had wanted more and she had refused him time and time again to make their _relationship_ more permanent. But then she found herself at a particular low point, her emotions whacked-out and she had turned back to Peter, seeming to give into him and they became something more than friends with benefits.

Eventually, she had tired of Peter and called off their _situation_ completely and Peter had taken it hard. For weeks he had refused to accept they were over and things had been pretty intense in the house for a while.

But, they'd had some great times together. He seemed to really understand her and what she thought of as the darkness inside her, he had a wicked sense of humor, and he was certainly one of the more attentive lovers she'd had, and her biggest regret was that she'd hurt him.

Although his actions after they had split sometimes made it hard for that regret to surface.

"Hey Peter," she smiled easily as he moved closer to her. He leaned in to kiss her, and Tris turned her head just in time to avoid his lips meeting hers, and he kissed her cheek instead.

He looked confused when she pulled away.

Tris sighed before explaining sadly. "We've talked about the kissing, Peter."

"Sorry," he smirked, his expression showing he was anything but. "Couldn't help myself."

"Well, you are gonna have to stop," Tris returned sternly, deciding she didn't want to have this conversation anymore before turning to continue down the hallway to find a room to work in.

"Aren't you gonna ask how the mission went?" Peter asked following her.

Tris sighed, indulging him in that moment for reasons she couldn't grasp. "How did the mission go?"

"It was awesome, though I have to say, we're lucky that I'm still alive, Sexy."

"Don't call me that," Tris exclaimed, spinning back around to face him, her eyes now a blazing green.

"Whoa, easy there, babe," Peter answered, holding his hands up to her.

"Peter, just stop. We broke up, remember? You can't keep calling me those pet names after all this time."

"What?" he asked daftly. "So are you and Vladimir still hot and heavy? To be honest, I thought you'd be over him by now, and I mean that in a completely non-sexual way."

"This has nothing to do with Dimi," she answered as she turned, spotting an empty room where she could work, and suddenly wishing she hadn't sent Four off to bond with Matthew. She could use some of his hyper-protectiveness of her right now, especially since she didn't want to be having this conversation – now or ever.

"No?" Peter queried as he followed her in, closing the door behind him. "So, are you still doing him or not?"

Tris placed her laptop and notepad down on the walnut desk, sighing deeply before meeting his eyes, annoyance apparent in hers.

"No, Peter," she snapped. "Dimi and I are no longer together."

Peter chuckled a little. "I knew it wouldn't last long. He wasn't someone who could handle you long-term."

"Handle me?" Tris echoed with disgust.

"Sure, babe," he continued easily, not acknowledging the anger in her voice. "We both know it takes a certain kind of man to keep up with you."

Tris looked up at him and laughed. "Well, obviously, you weren't the one to _handle me_ , either."

"Oh babe. I did a whole lot of handling, and you know it," he returned confidently.

Tris stopped organizing her work materials and sat down. "Stop calling me babe. I'm not your _Babe_ anymore."

"But you could be again," Peter pleaded, clearly not ashamed that he was begging her as he continued. "Come on, Tris, we were good together."

"We were good together," she admitted, "but the relationship ran its course. Move on, Peter. I have."

"What! To Vladimir?" He scorned.

"Initially, yes," Tris answered, narrowing her eyes at him before a sudden smile graced her lips at her next statement. "I have a new boyfriend now."

Her revelation had the response she'd hoped for. Peter recoiled slightly at her words and Tris felt a little gloat of happiness within her. As much as Peter knew what to say to hurt her, she knew exactly how he would feel about her having a man in her life she'd labelled as her boyfriend.

"Boyfriend?" Peter squeaked out. It was the very word she intentionally never used in relation to him.

"Yes, and you are going to leave him alone and not get all possessive and shit like you did with Dimi. Because he will kick your ass," she finished with a grin.

Peter huffed in disgust. "Oh, he can try."

"And he will succeed," she gloated, not even trying to keep the bite out of her voice as she responded to his arrogance.

"I take it he's here?" Peter grumbled as he flopped into couch in front of the desk watching Tris open her laptop.

Tris nodded and switched the machine on. "He's been with The Dauntless for some months now."

"And you are calling him your boyfriend? That was quick. We dated for almost a year, and I never got that honorary title."

"Well, that must tell you something, don't ya think?"

She looked at Peter. "I'm serious, Peter, leave Four alone."

"Four. I think I met him earlier."

"Tall, brooding, devastatingly handsome," she described while smiling, not looking up from the work that appeared on her laptop.

"Well, that describes me. How about the new guy?" Peter smirked to her.

"Whatever," Tris dismissed his high opinion of himself, though she knew Peter was just as good-looking as Four was. However, Four had something Peter didn't – humility.

"Look," Tris started, "what we had was great, but it ran its course. I'm sorry that it obviously meant more to you than me."

Peter ignored Tris's words and grinned. "When this is over, we should have angry sex. That's the best."

"Why are you not listening to me?" Tris said with frustration. "I'm tired of having this same conversation with you over and over again."

Peter looked at Tris, his face serious and his eyes holding hers.

"You can pretend all you want, Tris. But sooner or later, you're gonna have to face up to who you really are."

"And who is that?" she asked.

"A sad, lonely, little girl who's scared of having any true feelings or commitments. Scared of putting herself out there because she's afraid that the minute she feels love or allows someone to love her, they will be taken away."

"What's wrong with that?" she returned, her voice seeming to have lost its strength, terrified that what he said was true because that's how she felt at times. Again, she regretted that Peter knew her so well. Knew the demons within her, the ones she battled with regularly.

"You are missing out on life," Peter answered.

"I hardly think that," Tris scoffed.

"Tris, screwing random guys is not living… maybe living in the moment but what's that gonna get you twenty years down the line? Nothing. You will just have The Dauntless and nothing else. We both know you don't want to end up like your uncle."

"I won't end up like my uncle," Tris ground out through her teeth. "Four is different. I…"

Peter laughed. "Don't tell me you love him?"

Tris looked down at the desk in front of her and swiped away invisible dust with her hand while pondering his question.

"Come on," Peter cried in disbelief, his voice rising in anger. "We both know you are incapable of that emotional shit. You don't know how to love beyond the physical kind. And ya know what? When he's had enough of your insecurities and hang-ups, you'll come running back to me. Just like you did before when you got scared everyone you knew was living their life and you would be left by yourself."

"You can be a real bastard, ya know?" Tris spat out, knowing his words were true. Her insecurities of being alone had the clincher of why she had returned to Peter after saying they would never be more than fuck buddies.

"Yeah, and you're a bitch," Peter returned harshly.

"But I'm not your bitch," she paused before smiling.

"Yeah, well I feel sorry for this Four guy because sooner or later, you will rip his heart out and stomp all over it."

With that statement, he turned on his heel and stormed over to the door. He pulled it open roughly, finding Christina on the other side, about to enter.

"Hey!" she called out in disgust. "Watch where you're going."

"Oh look, it's bitch number two," Peter said sarcastically.

"Oh look, it's the leader of the peckerheads," Christina retorted.

Peter continued out of the room and down the hallway.

Christina turned when she heard Tris exhale loudly.

"You okay, babe?" she asked.

"Yeah," Tris answered quietly.

"You sure? I could hear the yelling out in the corridor."

"He won't stop calling me babe," Tris said with irritation as she fell back into her chair, running a hand through her coiffed blonde hair in exasperation at Peter's reaction to her.

"Babe? I call you babe," Christina stated.

"Yeah, but you know it's different when girls call their friends babe. When he calls me babe it's more of an _I wanna nail you_ babe," Tris explained.

"Well, he has been known to do that," Christina pointed out.

"You're not helping."

"Sorry. That bastard." Christina grinned. "Better?"

Tris offered her a weak smile. "Thanks." She rested her head on the back of the large office chair, grateful for the soft cushioning. "Why is he so hung up on this?" she asked her friend. "It's been eight months since I ended things!"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Christina returned, kneeling on the couch in front of the desk and leaning forward, resting her arms on the back and looking at Tris.

"Relationships break down all the time," Tris continued without acknowledging Christina' question. "It's a fact of life."

"Yeah, but there is always one relationship that makes it, ya know? The one relationship that involves marriage, babies, and matching walkers. And Peter… he wanted that with you."

"He knew from the beginning that it wasn't that serious," Tris admitted.

"Maybe not at first, but it turned into something more," Christina argued. At Tris's skeptical look, she added. "Well, for him anyway."

"I thought you were supposed to be on my side," Tris huffed.

"I'm always on your side, babe," Christina smiled. "What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know," Tris moaned before she stood. "He needs to get over it. Move on. I'm tired of this every time he comes home. It's not like he's hasn't been with anyone since me. I asked Matthew. So why does he refuse to let go?"

"I can't answer that for you. I would say give it time, but that doesn't seem to be working."

Tris paced with frustration. "God, he makes me so angry sometimes."

She stopped by a window which looked out across an expanse of green grass. She could see a group of the guys playing an impromptu game of football in the late afternoon sun.

Right in the middle of the action was Four, and Tris smiled as she watched him sprint across the yard, stretching out and catching a ball before receiving high-fives from his teammates.

"Whatcha looking at?" Christina asked and she climbed off the couch to join Tris at the window. "Oh, men at play. There is nothing more stimulating, don't ya think?"

"Yeah, there is definitely something to be said about a hot and sweaty man," Tris smirked.

The two girls watched as Four caught the ball again and turned, running in the opposite direction with Zeke, Will, and Uriah hot on his trail.

"Your sleeping buddy does not stand a chance against my man," Tris gloated.

"Yeah, well, just wait until Will hits his stride. He's a bit of a slow starter," Christina retorted with a grin.

"Too much information, babe," Tris laughed, holding her hand up in a stopping motion.

"I was actually talking about football, Tris. You need to get your mind out the gutter."

"There is nothing wrong with getting down and dirty," Tris retorted.

"Amen to that sister," Christina, and they high-fived each other.

They shifted their gazes out the window again, each with their own thoughts as they watched the guys continuing their game.

"Wanna go play cheerleaders?" Christina asked, nodding her head out to the guys.

Tris looked back to her laptop and notepad on the desk.

"What the hell. Let's go."

…

Tris and Christina were actually relaxing more than cheerleading in the bright afternoon sunshine. That was until Marlene and Tori joined them, and then the girls began making up silly cheers to urge the guys on during their friendly game of football.

This only seemed to distract the guys from playing, and soon, the girls found themselves dragged out onto the 'field' to join the game.

"Tris's not allowed on the same team as Four," Will said straight away.

"Why not?" Tris pouted, moving to stand next to Four, who wrapped his arm around her shoulder automatically and gave her a squeeze.

"Because Divergents against the rest of us is totally unfair and against the rules," Christina answered with a smile.

"Whose rules?" Tris demanded, her hands on her hips.

"My rules," Christina returned, stepping forward to face off with Tris, a smirk on her face.

"Bitch showdown," Uriah grinned, his head swiveling between the two, and there was an audible groan from most of the crowd while they watched the two women with rapt attention, curious to see what happened next.

Tris narrowed her eyes at Christina, and when the other girl wriggled her eyebrows back, Tris smiled.

"Fine," she agreed and turned on her heel, walking in the opposite direction and pulling Will with her.

"Did Christina just win?" Zeke asked, bewildered while watching the retreating figure of Tris as she whispered something to Will.

"Nope," Caleb smirked. "Tris gave in, which means there's something in it for Tris."

The group split into two teams, Christina and Marlene joining Four, Caleb, and Matthew, while Tris and Tori joined Zeke, Uriah, and Will.

Zeke called his team into a huddle. "They have a strong team over there," he told them. "Tori, you concentrate on Matthew."

Tori nodded, shifting her eyes over to the other team's huddle and the tall man clutching the football, thinking the best way to take him down was by the legs.

"Uriah, you stay on Caleb," Zeke instructed.

Uriah nodded.

Zeke looked to Tris and Will.

"Will, you take Marlene. She can be crafty."

"Sure thing, boss," Will grinned, though slightly miffed he didn't get Christina to cover.

"Tris," Zeke started and when she lifted her eyebrow to him, he smiled, shaking his head and resisting the urge to chuckle, knowing he would be the one to take on Christina. "Do whatever you are gonna do." At Tris's grin he added, "Just don't hurt Four too much. Remember, he's my partner just as much as he's yours."

"Oh, threesome," Tris giggled.

When Uriah began to cough, Will smacked him on the back, chuckling at Tris's choice of words and Uriah's reaction.

"Okay, break." And the group split apart and into position.

Tris smirked to Four when she squared up in front of him.

"I might have guessed Zeke would be too chicken shit to go against me," he said her, a half smile on his face. "You are going down, Prior."

"Bring it on, Eaton," was her reply.

Matthew snapped the ball to Caleb who scurried back with it, looking and waiting for one of his team to get clear.

Zeke shook his head when he saw Tris tackle Four, her full weight behind her as she brought him to the ground and landed hard on top of him, a wide grin on her face. The pair was oblivious to the rest of the team players as they rolled on the grass, Four eventually standing and running in the opposite direction looking for the ball, Tris hot on his tail.

Zeke intercepted a throw from Caleb to Marlene and quickly tossed the ball to Will, only to be caught mid-air by Caleb again and the other agent started for the end zone.

"Tris!" Zeke called, knowing he had no chance of catching the older Prior, finally getting the blonde's attention.

She turned from Four and set off after Caleb. She almost reached him before she was tackled from behind by Four.

Zeke grinned at that. Finally, someone who was not afraid to take the girl down.

Four laughed out as he brought Tris down, turning as they tumbled to the ground so he would land first.

Tris grunted against him, her hands automatically covering his arms around her waist as they rolled. "You cheated," she huffed out as she heard his team cheer as Caleb scored.

"I did not," he replied in disbelief. Tris lifted her hand from his arms and wove her fingers into his hair as she lay back against his front on the grass. She turned her head, tugging gently on his hair and placed a soft kiss against his neck, and his arms slackened at the feel of her lips on his skin.

She was instantly up and running back to her team, turning as she went and grinning back to him.

The next several plays all went the same way, Four and Tris intent on bringing the other down whilst the rest played the game around them.

A half hour later and Caleb called it. He was fed up of watching his sister roll around the ground with her boyfriend in the name of sport.

Four smirked to Tris as he helped her from the ground. "This is your fault, ya know."

"How can it possibly be my fault?" she retorted as they moved to stand with the rest of the players.

"Just because," he grinned. He turned to the rest of the group and asked, "Who won?"

"We did," Caleb beamed.

"No way, Prior," Will butted in. "We won!"

"Dream on, Lawson," Matthew laughed.

"I would call it even," a new voice called, and the whole group turned to look up onto the terrace that ran the length of the back of the house.

"Shit," Christina whispered, her head turning back slowly to Tris.

"This should be fun," Caleb gloated.

Four looked on as eight heads turned to look at him, watching for his reaction.

"What?" he asked, his eyes flashing up to the man on the terrace. He recognized him as the guy who was talking to Caleb earlier that day.

"Come on, Four," Tris said pulling on his hand, "Let's go for a walk."

"Who is that?" Four asked, though he let Tris pull him in the other direction.

"Nobody," Tris answered quickly.

"Tris?"

"Bear, please," Tris whined. She looked behind her to see Peter smirking.

Tris knew she needed to talk to Four about Peter. She could hardly keep the relationship to herself with the guy living in the same house.

"Let's just go for a walk, Four, and then we'll talk," Tris pleaded.

Four looked back at the figure watching the two of them, a smug look on his face and then he turned and let Tris drag him off.

…


	27. Chapter 27

Happy Wednesday Guys!

Hope today finds you all well and happy.

I've reached over 300 reviews for this story and I continue to be overwhelmed by the response my story has among you all. I can't thank you guys enough for sticking with me in this. I know I have some amazing dedicated readers and I'm so grateful for you all.

This chapter is dedicated to enj412 who was my 300th reviewer and because of that I asked if there was something she wanted to input into this chapter. So I hope you all enjoy that special something she requested. No rewards will be given out to those who guess what it is.

As usual, special thanks to cjgwilliams and her incredible skills (I wish you guys could see the comments she leaves for me in editing - they are the best).

Enough from me, you're not here to read my ranting, hope you all enjoy this chapter - let me know...

* * *

 **Chapter 27**

They walked around the edge of the large pond, entering into parts of the estate Four had yet to see.

"Was that the ex?" he finally asked her, as they strolled side-by-side, their hands clasped and fingers entwined, along the pathway that ran by the pond, several trees sprouting on either side of it.

"Ex?" she repeated shyly.

"Don't be coy with me, Tris," Four bit back, a little harsher than he meant to. He had given her wide latitude to hide things from him but this he just couldn't let go.

Tris sighed. "Yes."

"The one who hates to see you with any other guy?" Four probed.

"Yeah, that's the one," Tris mumbled. She looked sharply to him. "How did you know?"

"Tori told me," he answered with a shrug, then regretted it. He didn't want to hurt the doc's friendship with Tris.

"Huh, figures," Tris smiled.

"She just wanted me to have a heads up for when he returned home. Which is more than someone else," he finished, his eyes boring into hers.

"You want to have a conversation about my exes?" Tris asked with a smile.

"No," he replied quickly. "But I think we may need to about this one. From what I understand, Peter was a significant part of your life for a long time."

He watched as she sighed.

"Tris, I'm not saying I need to know everything, or about everyone you ever dated, but you never mentioned Peter once. We talked, all be it briefly, about Vladimir and then I learn about this other guy, who Tori thought is significant enough to warn me about, but you've never brought him up, ever."

He looked at her as she worried the path with the toe of her tennis shoe. Why wouldn't she talk to him about Peter? Did she still have feelings for this guy?

Four swallowed nervously, needing some answers. "Do you still want Peter?"

"What?!" Tris' eyes shot up to meet with Four's. "No!" She answered adamantly. "Why would you even say that?"

"Because I need to know," was his honest answer. He thought she loved him but with her being so closed-lipped about her feelings, how could he know what she was truly feeling?

"I never talked about Peter because… because he's a part of my past I'd rather forget," Tris relented, wondering when Four developed the power over to her to force her to spill almost any information, and generally information she kept close to her heart.

"I wasn't the person I am now when I was with him, even though it was only a year or so ago. I did some things I'm not proud of and I didn't want to be reminded of that. Telling you about Peter is like admitting I made some wrong choices and I… I want you to know me now, not the person I was when I was with him."

Four deflated a little, part of him regretting he'd forced this admission out of her, part of him relieved he had. He stepped closer to her, enveloping her small body to his. "We've all done things we're not proud of, Tris, but we have to be honest with each other, no matter how distasteful it is."

He felt Tris nod against his chest and he gave her an extra squeeze before he looked out at the green expanse around them.

"Are we headed anywhere in a particular?" He asked, knowing he'd gotten all he would from her at the moment.

Tris lifted her head as well, her eyes scanning the area. She smiled when she spotted the moderate looking house not too far away, nestled in a secluded section of the vast estate.

"You wanna meet the other man in my life?" She schooled her smile as she watched him struggle to keep his emotions under control, knowing he was now thinking there was another guy who he had to compete with for her heart.

"What other guy?" he asked hesitantly.

"My grandfather," Tris giggled, pointing over to the red brick house.

"Really?" Four asked, "You want me to meet your grandfather?"

Tris took a step closer to him, her one hand lifting to his hair, and she ran a finger through its length.

Four watched her as her eyes softened and she smiled to him. "Yes, Four. I want you to meet my grandfather."

As she started to walk again, leading him over to the house, Four couldn't help a feeling of nervousness flow over him. He guessed, in the absence of her father, her grandfather was the one to impress.

…

"Tris, child. What has kept you from my door for so long?"

Tris swept into the room with ease and into her beaming grandfather's arms.

"You know how Uncle Mason is, Gramps. All work, work, work," Tris whined good-naturedly.

Four smiled as Tris settled beside the older man on the couch, dipping her hand into the pocket of his cardigan and pulling free an individually wrapped Tootsie Roll.

Somehow, Four expected the patriarch of the Prior clan to be pushed around in a wheelchair and shriveled like a prune or someone who uttered commands and expected everyone to jump. Theodore Prior was the complete opposite. He was of average height with a full head of thick brown hair peppered with gray. He looked well for his age and obviously took care of himself.

"How long have these been in your pocket?" Tris asked as she unwrapped the candy and popped it into her mouth.

"I knew you would visit today, pixie-child, so I put some there specially," he told her.

"Right," Tris laughed, digging for another candy and tossing it over to Four. "And the fact you watched us cross the yard has nothing to do with it."

"You are too good, my girl," Theodore grinned and then turned to Four. "So you are the reason my granddaughter has neglected her old, frail grandfather."

"You couldn't be frail if you tried," Tris quipped before standing again and crossing the room to bring Four closer into the room.

"Gramps, this is Four," she smiled. "Four, this is Theodore, my grampy."

Theodore stood, stretching to his full height and held out his hand to the younger man. "I remember," he said in greeting, "though I recall your name is Tobias."

Four winched a little at the ease his name fell from the man's lips.

"How does everyone remember Four but me?" Tris complained, her bottom lip jutting out in her trademark pout.

"You were only two-years-old when he left, Pixie. Those of us who were a little older remember him." Theodore turned to Four. "Your father was a great man."

"That's what the consensus says," Four acknowledged tight lipped, shaking his offered hand.

Theodore nodded and indicated for Four to sit, Tris settling in between the two on the long couch.

"Tell me about what happened at my son's house," Theodore instructed, not wasting time on small talk.

Tris stood, obviously agitated, and moved over to the liquor cabinet. Four looked with concern at her back and then over to her grandfather. At Theodore's slight nod, Four proceeded to tell him what they had seen and the developments they had, pausing only when Tris handed him and her grandfather a tumbler each, both with a liberal amount of whiskey in them.

Four watched as Theodore expressed no emotion as he recounted recent events, though the tight grip the older man had on Tris's hand told Four that Theodore felt a lot more than he showed.

After Four finished, Theodore drank his whiskey in silence. Tris' glass was already drained of the golden liquid and her eyes flickered back to the bottle.

"Your uncle has increased security?"

"Yes, Gramps, but I don't need it."

Theodore ignored her and looked back to Four. "Is C.P.D. looking into this?"

"Yes, sir."

"They won't find anything," he stated evenly. "Dauntless has been looking into this for eight years, and we are still grasping for our own balls."

"We're working on it, sir," Four returned. "Maybe the C.P.D. will find something The Dauntless has missed."

Tris snorted at that. "Four, you cannot believe that. No offense to the C.P.D., but Dauntless agents have been working for years. And the information is something no one has found."

"Well, I'm hoping there is something I can do that will make a difference," Four retorted.

"You want to do something for me?" Theodore asked, anger evident in his voice. "You find this piece of shit who killed my son and his wife; who tortured my grand-daughter to the point of death."

Four balked at Theodore's tone, and Tris's eyebrows shot up. Her grandfather was a protective and emotional man, but she had never heard him speak so directly or harshly before.

"Tris, will you wait outside for a moment, please?" Theodore asked.

"Why?" Tris asked, automatically suspicious.

"Because I'm your grandfather, and I've asked you to," Theodore replied sternly. "I need to have a conversation with your boyfriend," he added with a sly smile on his thin lips.

Tris looked at Four with a look of apprehension. "Don't you want me to stay?" she asked hesitantly.

"Beatrice, out," Theodore ordered, and Tris reluctantly stood and slowly made her way from the room.

The moment Tris stepped from the room, Four became nervous. His hands began to sweat, and he swore his heart rate increased by a thousand beats per minute. He could feel Theodore's eyes on him and shifted so he could look back, never one to back down from a confrontation. He did admit to himself that he was terrified about what Theodore was going to say.

"So, Four," Theodore said, switching his given name for the one the man obviously preferred for some strange reason. "I take it you know all about Tris's history?"

"Most of it," Four stated. "She hasn't told me the intimate details…"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes, I want to know. Something that happened eight years ago is not gonna change how I feel about her, no matter how traumatic that may have been for her or for me to hear. What happened made her the person she is today. The person I love."

Theodore regarded Four with steel gaze before he settled back, a smile spreading on his face.

"Welcome to the family, Four, and good luck, because with Tris, you are gonna need it."

…

Classic country music poured out of the speakers and into the street from the hole-in-the-wall bar. It wasn't the kind of sound that normally radiated from a bar in Chicago but this place was off the beaten path, and it was a small business that catered to a specific clientele. Carol's bar was the ultimate in dive bars.

A tall, slim figure paused in the doorway, scanning the room quickly. He tugged on the lapel of his crisp, charcoal gray suit conspicuously when he felt many eyes on him, noting his out-of-place attire. These people soon returned to their drinks, shrugging off the newcomer as a lost tourist or businessman in the wrong neck of the woods, and the newcomer finally spotted his waiting companion and moved further into the establishment.

He slid onto the worn, padded bench across from the other man, hoping the cracks in the leather would not cause permanent damage to his tailored suit.

"You're late," Amar noted, his voice gruff and low.

"This place isn't the easiest to find," the new man retorted primly, resisting the urge to look around him in disgust.

The man opposite lifted his hand to a passing waitress and nodded once. The two sat in silence until two fresh bottles of beer appeared on the table.

"So, why did you want this meeting?"

The elegant man looked at the other in shock. "Things are getting serious."

"Things are getting serious! Don't you think they were pretty serious in the first place?"

"With Tobias back, I mean."

Amar lifted his eyes, searching the orbs of his acquaintance in question. "Do you really think Tobias has something to do with all the shit that is happening?"

"No. But we both know that Tobias was under Marcus' control for too long and that is the problem."

Amar shook his head wearily, the loss of Marcus Eaton still too much for him to process as his mind wandered back to a location almost identical to the place they were in.

…

 _Four years earlier._

 _Amar looked around him anxiously. The country bar that Marcus suggested for a meeting place seemed so unlike a place he would choose, but obviously, Marcus felt at ease here._

 _As the door opened again, Amar looked up from his bottle of beer to see his old friend enter the bar. Their eyes met immediately, and Marcus headed his way, pausing only to say something quickly to the bartender before joining him._

 _Marcus was still a good looking man, his easy looks and charm having benefited them both in their younger years until Marcus had met the woman destined to be his wife._

 _Marcus, Amar, and their other friend, Andrew Prior, had formed an unbreakable bond when they met as freshman in college. The three friends become almost legendary within their fraternity, and it still amazed Amar that any of them actually graduated, academia being the last thing on their minds during their years at Harvard._

 _Amar and Marcus were brought into The Dauntless through Andrew, though he himself never had much to do with the assassin group._

" _Well," Marcus grinned, "I would say the years have been kind, but… you look old, my friend."_

 _Amar chuckled low at Marcus's honesty. "That's because I am old, Marcus."_

 _Marcus waited as a young waitress dropped a bottle of beer onto the table before him, spilling a little of the liquid from the long neck._

" _Easy there, Courtney," he growled._

 _The blonde tossed a strand of hair over her shoulder and glared back at the older man. "You can tell that good for nothing son of yours that I'm done waiting for him." And she stormed off._

 _Amar raised a brow at the confrontation. "Tobias?"_

 _Marcus scowled. "Yeah, that boy is always getting himself into some sort of trouble. Be it with the ladies or the law." Marcus refrained from telling his friend everything he knew about Tobias he had to learn through hearsay. His son had left their small town in North California for college and hadn't returned since._

" _Just like his old man then, eh?" Amar chuckled._

 _Marcus snorted in a non-committal way. Amar, who he had once known well, knew nothing of his life since he had left The Dauntless and he intended to keep it that way. "How are things in Chicago?"_

" _Are you asking in general or regarding Dauntless?" Amar asked with a knowing smile._

" _Both," his old friend grinned back._

" _Chicago will never change, and neither will The Dauntless," Amar answered before taking a drink of his beer._

" _How is Beatrice?" Marcus asked tentatively._

 _Amar pondered how best to describe the child of their deceased best friend before saying, "Strong."_

" _Strong?" Marcus questioned._

" _She's just started her training," Amar offered._

" _Already?" Marcus practically shouted. "She's too young."_

" _She's 19 now, Marcus, just graduated from Stanford," Amar grinned, thinking of the little spitfire._

" _She's still too young to start her training," Marcus insisted. "Christ, she's 19! Still a teenager."_

" _And already outranks half of the Divergents in service."_

" _Shit," was all Marcus could say with a shake of his head. How much more could the girl take before she broke under the pressure?_

" _Natalie would be proud of her," Amar said, his voice hushed._

" _Natalie should be here, and Andrew, too," Marcus returned harshly, stopping the real thoughts he had about the situation from spilling out._

" _How is Tobias otherwise?" Amar asked, noting with mild concern how irritable Marcus seemed to become with talk of the Priors._

" _Tobias is impulsive," Marcus returned quickly._

" _Much like his old man, then," Amar grinned._

 _Marcus huffed. Who he had been when this man in front of him knew him, was not who he was now. He looked intently at Amar. His hair was graying, much like his own, and his face showed that the years had been tough for his old Dauntless partner._

" _Amar, as much as I enjoy seeing you again, why are you here? Granite Bay is not exactly_ 'in the neighborhood' _for you."_

 _Amar swallowed nervously, knowing as soon as the words left his mouth, there was no taking them back, and things would change._

" _I need help," Amar finally answered, diving in._

" _Thank God," Marcus grinned, a glimmer of his old personality shining. "I've been suggesting you get professional help for a long time now."_

 _Amar ignored the comment, his expression remaining serious._

" _I recently had a conversation with someone, and it has brought to mind some disturbing questions."_

" _Regarding what?" Marcus asked, his interest piqued, though the hairs on the back of his head stood to attention, warning him._

" _The Priors' murders," was all Amar said._

 _Marcus sat back against the wooden back of the booth, his gaze boring into Amar._

" _Have they caught the bastard yet?" he queried, his face emotionless. When he heard about the deaths of his friends and the torture their daughter had been subjected to, his blood had turned cold. A sense of some kind of need for retribution settling over him._

" _No, he continues to elude both the C.P.D. and The Dauntless, but I have a few leads that need chasing," Amar answered wearily._

" _So why not tell Mason?" Marcus asked, his eye flickering nervously from the longneck in his hand to his one-time friend._

" _Because this could stir up a whole hornet's nest, and I need to be sure before I do that. I'm not fully aware of all the implications, as my source refuses to disclose everything to me. But he assures me he will speak candidly to you."_

 _Amar handed over a small business card before settling back in his seat, watching the man opposite him._

 _Marcus looked at the white card Amar handed over, his eyebrow raising at the name printed on it._

" _You understand, this is strictly between the two of us for the moment," Amar commented, though he knew he didn't need to specify this. Marcus knew._

 _Marcus nodded, as he slipped the card into his jeans pocket._

" _The number on the back is secure," Amar added. He watched as Marcus took a long swig of his beer before adding, "So, tell me more about Tobias."_

…

Now, years later, Amar felt they were no further along in their investigations. The only thing that was different was the fact Marcus Eaton had been unapproachable in the last few years, seeming to have cut all ties completely with The Dauntless, and that including him.

Amar was sure Marcus knew something about the brutal attacks on the Priors but kept his opinions to himself for the time being and he berated himself for involving Marcus in the first place.

His last meeting with Marcus four years ago had left Amar with a feeling of uneasiness. Marcus had changed since he'd left the Dauntless. He knew all the right words to say, somethings never change, but there was something Amar just couldn't put a name to about his once Dauntless partner, something that unnerved him.

He looked back to his companion, Marcus's initial contact from four years ago.

"Things are getting out of hand," Amar said. "The fact that The Dauntless is now being targeted is disturbing. Plus, the body found in the Prior home. I have to admit, I'm worried."

"I can't understand why this has all started again," the formal man stated.

"Because it never finished," Amar replied. "Whoever committed that crime years ago failed. Tris didn't die."

"I understand that, but there have been eight years since then. Tris was in college for three of those years, a young agent after that, and nothing happened. Why do you think they have waited all this time to finish the job?"

"You think it's because Tobias came back?"

"I think it's too much of a coincidence to not take seriously."

Amar looked sideways at the man. "You don't think Tobias has anything to do with all this?"

"No, I don't," the man spoke, pausing for a second before expanding. "Tobias is a good person. Tris wouldn't let him near her if he wasn't. She has an innate understanding of people."

Amar nodded his agreement at that. Throughout his years with The Dauntless, he never crossed paths with anyone that resonated power like she did. And she herself didn't seem to understand what was contained within her.

Amar looked down at the worn wooden table, his mind whirling with questions they were struggling to find the answers to.

"Who are you going to ask to continue this investigation?" the man asked.

"I think the best person will be Peter. He's not here half the time, which gives him a kind of free range," Amar hypothesized.

"That and the fact he would do anything for Tris," his friend laughed.

"Edward, any member of Dauntless would do anything for Tris. I can't comprehend what would happen if we lost her."

"Let's not think about that because it won't happen. Tris is stubborn, and she simply will refuse to die."

"Let's hope so, because I have a feeling things are gonna get much worse better they get better."

The two unlikely friends continued to drink in silence.

…

Tris looked up from where she was sprawled on top of their bed, her laptop was open before her as she checked her email and surfed the net, looking up random things: a report on the growing poverty concerning the inner city kids of Chicago, an article on how antibiotic resistance could have catastrophic consequences when it comes to fighting so-called superbugs within the next 30 years or so, and that pair of _fuck-me_ pumps she just had to have.

Four was relaxing on the chaise lounge, a novel in his hands, but she could see his eyes were closed. She smiled, closing the lid on her laptop and climbed quietly from the bed.

She gently took the book from his relaxed hand, placing it carefully on the floor beside the piece of the furniture. He shifted slightly, moving down the chaise a little, and she crawled over him to settle half on him, half against the back of the couch, her head resting against his chest, his arms coming around her automatically.

She smiled again, her ear to his heart, listening, and finding comfort in its steady beat. She loved being with him, loved their exhilarating sex life, but moments like this, the quiet moments, she cherished these just as much, holding them close to her like a life line. Almost like she was packing each memory away in a box in her mind, to recall them when she was at her lowest, when her soul was darkest and she needed some light to find her way to back.

The pads of her fingers traced feather-like over the fabric of his t-shirt; the material was thin so she could easily feel his defined muscles beneath it. She trailed her hand lower, her smile growing into a mischievous grin when she felt him move subtly under her.

"Don't start something you're not prepared follow through on," he said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest and vibrating into hers.

"I'm always prepared to follow through, Bear. You should know this by now," she returned, her voice soft and light.

Four's fingers tangled into her hair at the base of her skull, his blunt nails scrapping gently against her scalp and when she shuddered slightly, he grinned.

Tris's hand moved under his shirt, splaying over his abs, her fingertips caressing his warm skin. "Are you awake now?" The hint of mischief in her voice was not lost on Four.

"I wasn't asleep," he returned with a smirk, his hand trailing lower down her back to rest on the curve of her ass.

"Sure you weren't," Tris laughed, her hand under his tee-shirt tugging gently on a few of his chest hairs.

"Hey!" Four rebuked, his other hand lifting to rub at his chest.

"What?" She asked innocently.

"Oh, it's gonna be like that is it," Four retorted as he moved Tris' body until she was resting completely on top of him.

He brushed back her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear before cupping her chin and gently pressing his lips to hers.

She returned the soft caress of his lips, moving hers sensually with his, appreciating the feeling of his soft lips against hers, relishing the playful nips of his teeth.

But she wanted more.

She pulled her body up his, giving herself a better angle to demand more. She held his face in her hands, her fingertips stroking his slight scuff lovingly, as she licked at the seam of his mouth, and when he granted her entrance, she plundered wildly.

She felt Four's hands grasp her ass, his fingers pressing deep into her flesh and she moaned against him, wriggling her hips playfully

Four moved his own hips against her, the length of his penis pressed hard against her thigh and she shivered, moaning her appreciation as her tongue moved with lazy, languid strokes against his.

She broke their kiss, gasping for breath. Four immediately latched onto the pulse point of her neck, his lips sucking, biting, licking at her skin, while she placed delicate, feather-light touches of her lips against the skin at the base of his neck.

Four pulled his lips from the sweet taste of her neck and gently pushed on her hips.

"Stand up," he said, his voice hoarse with his arousal.

Tris complied, twisting her body from his so she could stand. Four followed her movements, lifting his upper body from the cushions of the chaise and maneuvering himself so he was sitting with his feet planted on the floor either side of Tris as she stood before him.

He leaned forward to trail his fingers lightly up the back of her legs, her body vibrating in anticipation of what he was going to do next. His digits danced against her smooth thighs, wrapping around them and he tugged gently, moving her legs so they opened slightly.

Tris swallowed nervously, the eroticism of the moment all too real, but part of her wanting to rebel at the control he seemed to have over her and her body.

She looked down at him and when he flashed her that lop-sided grin of his, her heart beat accelerated. She laid a hand against his cheek, her fingers brushing into his hair behind his ear, and he tilted his head, resting into her palm, his eyes on hers.

Her heart seemed to ache with the need to be everything for this man, to be better at expressing how she felt, how he made her feel. She could see it plainly with him, every emotion he had for her was evident on his face and with his actions, and she wanted nothing more than to let that final wall down, to show him her soul the way he offered her his own.

She wished she could ignore the scared girl inside her who whispered she would never be good enough for this strong, caring man. The one who taunted she was damaged beyond what any person would want, what any man could love.

His hands moved again, lifting higher over the soft curve of her bum to her waist, his fingers dipping into the waist of her shorts and then slowly, he lowered the material, their eyes locked.

Tris stepped out of the small pool of material, a hand on Four's shoulder to steady, his intense gaze making her body hum.

His hands returned to the backs of her thighs, drawing her body closer to his between his legs. When she was where he wanted her, his hands moved again, retracing the path they had made to remove her shorts, this time pushing her pale peach tee-shirt up, exposing her taut stomach to his eyes.

His head inched closer until he flicked out his tongue, leaving a trail of moisture just above her belly button. He nuzzled her stomach, scrapping his whiskers against her soft skin, before placing wet, open kisses against the flat expanse before him.

His tongue dipped into her navel, and when she shuddered above him, he grinned, knowing she was particularly sensitive here. He swept his tongue in tantalizing brushes along the skin exposed from her belly button to the lace top of her bikini panties, his fingers digging into her hips to keep her in place, her body trembling uncontrollably before him.

"Tobias," she breathed out, her eyes closing as his hands held her fast, and Four fought to control himself. Hearing her say his name, whispered almost in reverence, was almost too much.

She pushed him back and moved to straddle him, her hands on his shoulders as she settled into his lap.

He inched his head forward, his lips latching onto her neck, his tongue slipping out to taste her skin.

"God, Tobias," she repeated, her hips moving against him.

He could feel her heat through her thin cotton panties, hot against the denim of his jeans, and he wished they'd thought to remove the rest of their clothes before they got into this position.

She panted erratically into his ear as she rotated her hips hard against his, her hot breath sending a shiver down his spine.

"Please," she moaned, her hips moving wildly. She writhed and whimpered against him, her moans making his gut twist in a painfully pleasant way. Her hands gripped fiercely to his shoulders, making him jerk against her warm body.

"Easy, Blondie," he muttered, his hands stilling her relentless hips, holding her still and tight against him and Tris was sure she could feel him throbbing between her legs. He was like a drug, an addiction she willing surrendered to.

She craved him.

She lowered her head to his shoulder, resting her forehead while she fought to control herself and her body. "Tobias, please. I need you now."

"I got you," he whispered, placing a soft kiss against her temple. He slipped his hand between their bodies and struggled with his zipper.

"Need some help?" she grinned, turning her head slightly to look up at him through dipped eyelashes. Seeing him as overcome with desire as she was helped calm her urgency slightly.

"You're going to be the one needing help," he muttered, his body ready to burst if he didn't get naked soon.

"Not if you can't get your pants down," came her sassy reply, her hand reaching under his tee-shirt again, raking her nails over his chest, capturing a nipple as she went.

"Oh, you're in trouble now," he growled, the zipper finally moving and he lifted his hips, Tris scrambling off his lap so he could push his jeans down.

Once his pants were at his ankles, he stripped Tris of her panties before pulling her back on top of him.

She hovered above him, her lips curling into a lascivious smile as she swayed her hips tantalizingly before him.

She felt his hands trail up and down her sides under her shirt and then press against her lower back in attempt to bring her hips back to his. But she was insistent and torturous; she moved her hands to the back of the couch on either side of his head and her only touch became soft brief flutters of her lips on his hot skin.

Four marveled at her before him, completely bare from the waist down, a simple, innocent-looking tee-shirt covering her upper body and he wondered if she was wearing a bra.

He craved her.

His hand moved over her naked ass, his right continuing up and over the soft material of her shirt, around her rib cage and higher to finally cup a breast in his palm. Soft, un-encased flesh rested securely in his hand and he squeezed gently, her moan of pleasure rippling through him. He felt her nipple tighten against the fabric and he pinched it tightly, this time making her inhale sharply, her mouth twisting into a smile.

His lips soon replaced his thumb, the fingers of his right hand still fondling her breast, while his left dug into the soft skin of her ass. Again she shuddered against him, a hand at the back of his head holding him tight to her while her hips started to move again: the soft hair of her sex rubbing sensually against his stomach, just inches above his dick.

He could feel her body shivering through the small barrier of air between them. He could feel her need, her arousal, reaching into him and begging for his touch without need for words. Everything about her demanded him. The heat of her body, the sounds of her short shallow breaths, the flush of her skin, and the scent of her that filled his nostrils.

He pulled back from her breast, the wet material clinging to her flash, her nipple taut and poking out the fabric. He moved quickly, pulling the tee from her body, leaving her completely bare to him.

"God, you're stunning," he breathed out, telling her what he had told her many times, his hand returning to cup her breast, while his lips attacked the other. His other hand moved from her ass, dipping lower to where she was hottest. His fingers moved slicky over her, her arousal making the movement easy.

Tris started to tremble when Four touched her in all the places she needed him too. The sensations were overwhelming and, for a second, she thought she might orgasm just from this.

"Tobias," she stammered as he dipped a finger into her, his teeth nipping at her nipple, as his hand moved from her breast to around her back, holding her quivering body close.

Her hands moved from the back of the couch to claw at his shirt, pulling the material up, desperate to feel him skin to skin.

He removed his hands from her long enough for her to rid him of his shirt, then he pulled her back, this time settling her in his lap, his penis pressed against their stomachs between them, pulsing to be buried deep in her body.

She rocked against him again, rubbing her sensitive clit against the hardness of his dick.

"Tobias," she growled before he caught her lips with his, devouring her mouth as she moved on him. Her hands were in his hair, holding his close, anchoring them both as his hands found her ass again, helping to grind against him, her wetness coating the base of his dick.

She pulled back slightly and stared at him with raw passion blazing in her eyes, her hand groping between their bodies to grasp at his length. She pumped him with lazy strokes, her thumb collecting a drip of his pre-cum while her fingers coated her own juices from his base upwards. Four couldn't help pressing up into her delicate hand, wanting more, needing more.

He covered her hand with his as she swept against the base of his shaft again, stilling her movement, his other hand at her hip, encouraging her to raise to her knees.

She complied, rising to gain the height she needed to hover over the crown of his thick dick, and using her other hand to tilt his head to hers, kissing him gently as she thrust down on him, hard and fast. She then slid up, achingly slow, enjoying the feel of his throbbing head pressing against every sensitive spot inside her until it rested just inside her opening.

She lowered herself again, this time slowly, sensually, and she rested, luxuriating in the feel of him, hot and hard, deep within her.

He could see the fire in her eyes, burning with passion and sensuality, but there was a softness there as well, a gentleness that only he saw. As her fingers danced delicately over his features, he marveled at his love for her.

He knew he loved her, the feeling beyond anything he'd experienced in his life before he met her. To be with her like this was akin to a religious experience. It wasn't simply sex; it wasn't just fucking. It was love.

 _I love you,_ he thought, wishing he could tell her and know he wouldn't scare her away.

Tris smiled at him. The pleasure he gave her was beyond anything she'd experienced in her life. To see his raw emotions so evident on his face as she settled her body around his, sheathing him like a glove. It wasn't simply sex; it wasn't just fucking. It was love.

 _I love you,_ she thought, terrified and elated at the same time as the thought soared through her mind.

"What you thinking about?" Four whispered.

"You," she replied breathlessly.

She closed her eyes, feeling too exposed, her emotions and feelings right there for him to devour and she reached for the back of the couch. She pulled herself up again until the only the very tip of his cock was still enveloped in her marvelous warmth.

He still had a tight grip around her body and could easily have brought her down on him as he thrust his hips upwards, but the teasing and primal glint in her eye made him stop.

He leaned forward expecting her lips to return to his, but they remained just inches away, her breath warm against his mouth.

She teased him, her lips inches from his as she made shallow movements with her hips, taking him in an inch deeper before pulling back up slightly. It was infuriating and frustrating in a way that only turned him on more, making him impossibly harder, growing and throbbing within the warmth of her body she allowed him to access.

All too soon he couldn't take her teasing anymore and, gripped her hips tightly, knowing his brutal grip would cause her soft flesh to bruise, and he pulled her down on him.

She gasped out, in pain or in shock he wasn't sure, all he was sure of was she was moving against him. He was so deep within her body, a breathless cry escaped her lips.

Her thighs tightened and gripped his with each and every thrust, begging him to move harder and deeper as she bit and sucked where neck met shoulder.

He grunted into her hair at the pain of her bite and he felt it at the base of his spine.

She rocked her hips against him, stroking her inner walls with his hard length, his breath hissing out between clenched teeth.

He shifted his body, moving his ass closer to the edge of her couch so he could move his hips more forcefully and he thrust into her body hard and fast.

"Oh God! Fuck me!" Tris called out and moaned in delight and ecstasy.

"I am," he murmured and kissed her deeply as he continued a hard, fast rhythm in and out of her.

He set a frantic pace, one she was only too willing to maintain as they moved together.

"Harder," she breathed. She could feel him quivering beneath her and she whimpered as he moved.

His hand brushed against her clit and she kissed him, riding the maddening circling of his thumb and feeling her orgasm building with every slide of his dick.

Four moved again, titling her into an angle that had the head of his dick rubbing at that tender, sweet spot inside her.

Tris scrambled to place her hands somewhere she would have some purchase, someplace where she could offer some resistance to his thrusting and counter with some of her own. The constant nudging from the throbbing head of his dick against her g-spot was building her to what she was sure would be an explosive finish.

"Don't… stop," she stammered out, when his hand grasped at her breast again, feeling that coil within her tighten, constricting intensively until she shattered, a blinding spear of white heat surging through her.

He continued pumping into her through her orgasm for as long as he could, her screams growing louder and louder until his own mangled cry escaped his lips and he emptied himself inside her, his own orgasm ripping through his body.

She lowered her body gently to his, his own body half in pain, half in pleasure as she groaned softly and continuously against his neck.

Their grip lessened though they could still feel the fast pace of the other's heart beneath their chests. Their eyes locked as pleasure continued to spread from the place they were connected.

"That," Tris breathed out, "was incredible."

Four could only nod his head in agreement, his body vibrating and tingling, his breath still erratic as he felt her body relax on top of him.

He nudged at her. "Don't go to sleep, Tris," he said, his voice gruff. "We can't sleep here."

"Why not?" Was her mumbled reply as she nuzzled herself deeper into his body.

Four smiled at her sleepy voice, a hand rubbing soothingly up and down her spine. He moved her arms, wrapping them around his neck. "Hold on," he instructed gently.

Tris giggled slightly. "Don't think I have the strength," she answered, but clasped her hands together.

Four struggled to sit up from the awkward position they had ended up in and Tris' added weight against him. Eventually he was standing with Tris clinging to him like a spider monkey, her legs wrapped loosely around his waist.

He was still buried deep within her and when she wriggled against him, he groaned, feeling his dick jump at her movement.

"Be still," he chastised gently as he moved them both to the bed.

"Spoil sport," she grinned lazily against his neck.

He rolled them into the bed, her warm body settling into his side, curling into his embrace and they drifted into an exhausted sleep.

…


	28. Chapter 28

Happy Wednesday guys! Its that time again for an update.

We are still attracting new readers so welcome to all newbies, hope you continue to enjoy and thanks for the alerts and favorites.

As always thanks to the guest reviewers for taking the time to drop a review.

Huge Mega thanks to cjgwilliams for her fabulous beat-ing skills and ever probing questions, you rock, even when you are battling with lungs that refuse to behave!

And, thanks to FFN finally getting their act together so I can read all your lovely reviews for the last chapter.

So, on to the next ... enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 28.

Four tapped wearily at the keyboard on his beat up wooden desk that had provided a work space for numerous detectives before him throughout their careers. He looked down at the wad of paper under one corner and wondered if he could pester his captain again for a new desk… or at least one that didn't stand with a wobble or the need of assistance. He'd been previously told the budget wouldn't allow it. Maybe he could offer to buy it himself now his personal funds had skyrocketed?

"Hey, Eaton."

Four lifted his head to see Neil from the post room weave between the desks, a large manila envelope in one hand, whilst the other controlled the mail trolley in front of him. "You have some personal mail. Trying to escape someone?"

The man laughed as he neared Four. He was short, slim built, and looked like a good gust of wind would knock him over. He'd tried a couple of times to join the police ranks but failed on several levels. Now he was resigned to working in the post room for the C.P.D. and was somewhat settled in his job.

Four smirked back to the man, thinking he was lucky no one in the department, aside from his partner, was aware who his present girlfriend was, and for the time being, he wanted to keep it that way.

"You know how it is, I'm sure," Four bantered goodheartedly, his eyes light with mirth.

"Not me," Neil returned. "I'm a happily married man."

"Well, married at least," Four joked.

He took the envelope from Neil, idly thinking he should stop by his apartment and pick up his mail or better yet, change his address with the post office.

Neil perched himself on the corner of Four's desk, an amused grin on his face. Four flashed him a look of slight irritation, annoyed that the man hadn't moved on after their brief conversation and seemed intent on watching Four's face as he opened the letter. He clearly was choosing, or was too dense to understand, he wasn't welcome anymore.

Four turned his attention back to his mail and looked at the hand-written address on the envelope. He didn't recognize the writing, and there was no return address, but it had a Chicago postmark.

He turned the letter over and pinched the clasp together before running his finger under the edge to open it, his hand reaching inside in one fluid motion.

His fingertips registered the photographs before his mind did, gliding easily over the glossy paper, and he pulled his hand from them quickly.

Four felt the hairs on his arms stand, and he instinctively tipped the envelope, dropping four 8x10 prints face down onto his desk. He reached down to his bottom drawer, quickly opening it and pulling a pair of latex gloves out of the box he kept there.

"Four?" Jason asked, concerned as he slowly stood from his chair behind the desk at a right angle from Four's. He recognized the moment Four became suspicious of his delivery. The tell-tale motions of his body becoming tense and his jaw locking speaking volumes to Jason.

When Four didn't answer, Jason crossed the small space that separated their work areas to investigate as well.

Four snapped the gloves into place and looked up when Jason came to stand by his side, staring at the face-down images quizzically.

"What?" Neil asked, his face eager and his eyes swinging between Four and Jason.

The two detectives didn't answer him, their eyes intent on the white backs of the photo paper. Four slowly reached out and pulled the first one free, turning it over and placing it back on his desk.

It was a glossy print of Tris, her eyes vibrant and expressive, a bright smile on her face. It looked like a professional portrait, maybe taken for The Prior Group to use in brochures and on their website.

Neil whistled at the photo. "Hot babe," he smiled, nudging Jason with his elbow, his eyebrows wriggling comically. At the disapproving looks from Four and Jason, his grin slipped quickly.

Four reached again and turned the next photo over. Another picture of Tris, but this time, it was more candid, and the image looked like it was a surveillance photo. She was sitting at a small table, obviously an outdoor café, drinking a cup of coffee. Her clothing was business style which Four took to mean it was snapped during a break from her office.

The third photo was recent, and Four recalled the time and place immediately. It showed the two of them at Navy Pier, her arms were around Four's neck, his around her waist, and they were laughing at something. The disturbing thing about this photograph, other than it was clearly taken in a public place without their knowledge, was the crosshairs that had been added to the image around Four's head.

Someone had been watching them that evening, and neither of them realized. That thought made him sick to his stomach.

The last picture was the most disturbing. Upon first glance, he could have sworn it was snapped at the crime scene they visited a few weeks ago regarding the recent murder at the Prior home, but Four noticed the subtle differences as he studied it. The green of the walls was brighter, the starkness of the red blood against the pale skin was more horrifying, and the unconscious form of a younger version of his girlfriend was all too real.

Across the bottom of the glossy print was scrawled the word _Soon_ , just as it had been written on the wall of the dining room of Tris's old home.

"Oh, fuck!" Jason breathed out.

Four couldn't tear his eyes from the last picture. As horrific as it was, he was hypnotized by it. The angle of her half naked body and the obvious gunshot wound to her side brought home to him how sick this bastard really was. When she joked about knowing how it felt to be shot, she wasn't kidding, and his heart ached again for what she had been through at such a young age.

Jason rushed back to his desk and retrieved an evidence bag, quickly scrawling the time and date on the label section and Four's name.

"Do we put this in with the new murder or the old murders?" Jason asked as he returned to Four's desk.

Four couldn't answer his partner, as his mind was working overtime with thoughts on how to keep his stubborn girlfriend safe until he hunted down and caught this psycho.

He knew if he voiced this wish to her it would be met by her demand that he stop trying to protect her. But how could he not with the evidence of what had happened to her in the past so vivid in front of him? He wanted this to be over for her, for her and for him. He feared their relationship wouldn't be able to progress to anything deeper until she could lay her demons to rest. And while her parents' killer was still out there, she was still haunted by what had happened.

Not that she would ever be able to forget her degradation and suffering at the hands of this sick bastard, he saw it ever time he covered her body with his. She gave herself freely to him, withholding nothing of her sensuality and sexual nature, but she also held a part of herself back, almost as if readying herself to flee if the need arose. He wanted nothing more than that feeling, that look in her eye, to be gone.

He wanted her to know how much she meant to him, abused past or not. He wanted to prove their relationship, his love for her, was something that would never falter. He needed her to know he would be there for her through everything; every memory she suffered through, he would be the one to hold her, to chase away the nightmares and her demons.

"Four," Jason probed, seeing his friend and partner losing himself to his inner thoughts.

"Is he all right?" Neil asked, standing from his position and studying Four intently.

"He'll be fine," Jason said quickly, flashing a look at the mailman. "Thanks, Neil."

Neil nodded once, taking that as his dismissal and collected his trolley before moving off, looking back over his shoulder once before disappearing from their view.

Jason pulled on a pair of gloves and reached for the photos, stopping when Four's hand clasped his arm tightly.

"I need a copy of those," he said, his voice emotionless and his face expressionless.

"Four," Jason started, ready to try and talk his friend out of whatever he was thinking, but after one cold look from Four, he nodded once and picked the pictures up before heading for the copier.

Four sat for a few more minutes before he stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair in one fluid movement.

He passed by Jason at the copier just as his partner was finishing. Jason pressed the copies into Four's waiting hand.

"I've gotta go," Four said simply.

"I'll process these and make the report," Jason offered, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep him in the building.

"Thanks," Four said, then turned swiftly and left, one thought on his mind: He needed to see Tris.

…

Four breezed through the reception area of The Prior Group's building, by-passing the long desk and heading straight for the bank of elevators, waving at building's receptionists as he passed them.

His infuriating fear of confined spaces seemed secondary to his need to see Tris and he rode the elevator almost in a trance, his panic at the need to get to her outweighing his claustrophobia. In no time at all, he stepped out onto the top floor and realized he had been in the elevator and remained unaffected. He smiled at that thought.

The foyer here was smaller, though still large, and several people were in various places around the area. Some were seated on the plush couches waiting for an appointment with one of the Prior's, a few workers intent on their business, and the ever present receptionist sat behind the expensive glass desk.

"Good afternoon, Detective Eaton," she smiled to him, and Four nodded back, forgetting her name and shrugging it off as he ended down the corridor which led to Tris's high-class office.

Lauren was at her desk, her eyes lowered as she worked on something, and George's desk was surprisingly empty.

"Hey, Lauren," Four greeted. "Is she busy?"

Lauren smiled at the rugged man who Tris cared for more than she realized.

"She's always busy," she answered lightly, "but I'm sure she'll take a break for you. Want me to announce you?"

Four moved toward the door, tossing over his shoulder. "Thanks, I'll announce myself," he grinned.

He paused with his hand on the brass door knob, looking at two guards now stationed outside her office. "Full alert at all times," he said, his voice low, and the two nodded in understanding before he entered the office.

The soft, gentle sound of classical music greeted him, and he paused by the door, observing her as she worked. Her laptop was open on the desk, off-center, and Tris was busy writing something on a large notepad, her hand moving gracefully as it danced over the paper.

"Are you here for business or pleasure?" she asked, though she didn't look up, and Four could hear the smile in her voice.

"Oh, I'll take pleasure any time of the day," he grinned back, moving further into her office and closer to her, feeling the tense nerves inside of him soothe when he observed she was safe and well.

Tris chuckled low in her throat as he walked across the room, shaking her head slightly. "And they say I have a one-track mind," she said as she finished her sentence, placing her pen down on the pad and leaning back in her large chair.

Four stopped in front of her desk, a lop-sided grin on his face as she pushed her chair from the desk slightly, her legs crossed demurely. Four couldn't stop his eyes from wandering to the length of thigh she was showing him, and when his gaze finally returned to her face, he found she was smirking at him. He moved toward her, his eyes not leaving hers as he practically stalked around the furniture which separated them, and Tris rolled her chair back a little further.

Four came to a stop in front of her, placing his hands on the arm-rests, and leaning down into her before gently brushing his lips against hers.

Tris sighed at the feel of his lips, thinking she would never tire of the way he kissed her, the way she felt it throughout her body, and the way something so simple made her tingle everywhere. Four's hands found her wrists, and he tugged on them, raising her from the chair, their lips never separating.

Her hands rose to slide under his jacket, and she pushed it from his shoulders. Without a word, Four let it drop to the floor. Her fingers wound into his hair as their kiss intensified, and Four's hands rested on her hips. He maneuvered her body, turning her from her standing position in front of the chair until she was pressed against the edge of her desk.

The movement caused the old burgundy, leather desk pad under the paper Tris had been writing on to move slightly, and Four glanced down at the sound.

He pulled away from Tris when something white caught his eye, something hiding under the desk pad.

"What?" she asked, looking down as well to see what had turned Four's attention from her.

Four stepped back, his imagination running wild at what could be lurking, hoping it wasn't something like what he had received in the mail earlier.

He moved her aside without answering her, needing to be the first to see whatever it was, just in case. He gingerly lifted the old desk pad, half dreading what he would see.

"Four?" Tris asked again, concern now in her voice.

Four looked down at the white paper, moving the pad completely. What he saw was the last thing he expected.

It was a picture drawn in crayon by a child. A mom, a dad, a boy, and a little girl, all standing next to a large house, the childish figures smiling and holding hands. A big, fat, yellow sun shone in the sky, and a tree and flowers completed the picture. Across the top was written in a childish scrawl, _I love you, Daddy,_ and under the figures was written, _Mommy, Daddy, Caleb, Beatrice_. The paper had been laminated and secured to the desk with, he assumed, glue.

Four turned to the woman beside him. "Very talented," he said with a smile.

"Oh, be quiet. I was seven years old," she returned, playfully slapping her hand against his shoulder.

"Why do you have it on your desk?" he asked, moving the pad aside so the picture was on full view.

"The picture kinda came with it," Tris replied, pulling Four over to her and pushing him down in the large desk chair, settling herself sideways in his lap.

Four looked at the large desk and then to her, her fingers weaving into a space between the buttons of his shirt, realization suddenly dawning on him.

"Please don't tell me that was your father's desk?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly.

"Of course it was my father's desk," she answered looking at him.

"Shit, Tris. We had sex on that desk," he moaned, disbelief in his voice.

"And…?"

"And… I feel like I disrespected your father somehow," he told her.

"Oh please, it's not like he never had my mother sprawled out on that desk," she teased.

"Tris!"

"What! My parents were very sensual people, Four. Where do you think I get it from? It's highly probable I was conceived on that desk," she informed him with a cheeky grin.

Four looked at her disbelieving, and at her nod, he shook his head.

"Come on, Tobias," she purred, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "Don't go all shy on me now."

Four grinned, liking the way she said his name, as his hand, which had been resting on her knee, slid higher and under the material of her shirt dress, gliding easily against her smooth skin.

Tris returned his smile before closing the space between them to capture his lips with hers, immediately demanding more from him than a sweet kiss.

They were lost in their passionate kiss, Tris's hands in Four's hair again and his hand leaving her thigh to lift higher and mold against her breast. Tris squirmed in his lap as he caressed her through the silk of her dress at the same time her intercom buzzed to life.

Tris tore her lips from Four's, looking accusingly at her complicated desk telephone, knowing Lauren's voice would be on the other end of that hail.

"Ignore it," she said harshly, turning back to Four again and pulling him back in for another searing kiss.

It rang again, and this time, Lauren didn't wait for an answer. "Ms. Prior, Mr. Bertini has arrived for your appointment."

Tris moved away from Four again. "Shit, I forgot about him."

"Tell him to come back tomorrow," Four said, his voice gruff with lust as he popped opened a button on Tris's dress to get more access to her skin.

"I can't," Tris answered her own voice regretful as she pushed Four away from her.

"Tris," Four groaned, ignoring her and settling his lips against her neck.

"Mmmm," Tris sank back against him against, his lips teasing the tender flesh of her neck.

"Shall I make coffee?" Lauren's voice filled the room again.

"Fuck," Tris hissed out, pushing Four away from her and moving from his lap before he could entice her into a compromising position with an important potential client waiting outside her office.

She hit the button on her intercom. "Yes, Lauren. Thank you." She knew her voice was harsh, but she was now horny, and instead of doing something about that with Four, she would have to sit through a boring meeting with a pompous middle-aged man.

She turned back to Four to watch as he picked his jacket from the floor. "I guess we'll finish this at home," he smirked to her.

She only nodded, and when he took a step toward, she held out her hand, keeping him an arms-length away.

"Keep your distance, Buddy, or I won't be responsible of my actions."

Four laughed at that. Her hair was a little wild, and her lips were swollen and he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, but he respected her need to work.

"I'll just get going then," he said, rounding the desk and heading for the door.

"Four," she called, her voice low but stopping him anyway. She hurried over to the door leading to her Uncle's office, which had at one time been her father's. "You need to leave by Uncle Mason's office."

Four's eyebrows rose. "You ashamed of me?"

"Of course not, but I …"

"Don't worry, babe," he grinned. "I know. It's hard being a woman in a man's world, right?"

"Something like that," Tris smiled back, glad he understood.

"I'll see you when you get home," he returned, daring to lean in and draw her back into a kiss. He opened the connecting door and slipped into the other office, and before she closed the door behind him, he said, "You might want to button your dress, Blondie."

And then he was gone.

Tris quickly refastened the button on her dress as she walked back to her desk. She ran her fingers through her hair, straightened up her desk, casting a wistful smile to the picture she had drawn a lifetime ago before covering it again, and settled into her chair just as Lauren knocked on the door.

"Mr. Bertini, I'm sorry to keep you waiting," Tris said gracefully as Lauren showed the middle-aged, stout man into her office. His brown hair was thinning, Tris thought, and his eyes were beady and looked a little small for his head.

It seemed he tried to over-compensate for his lack of good looks with a superior air and an impeccable taste in clothes. His suit was tailored and exquisite, his shoes expensive.

"Will Mr. Prior be long?" the arrogant man asked, looking skeptically at the small frame of the young woman in front of him as he cross the room.

"There seems to be some misunderstanding," Tris smiled sweetly, her eyes swinging to the younger man who settled into the chair next to Mr. Bertini. "I will be leading the meeting today."

"I'm sorry," Mr. Bertini said with a smile and a tone that said he was anything but. "I was led to believe that I would be dealing with one of the Priors."

"And you are," Tris returned through clenched teeth, though her smile never slipped. "Beatrice Prior."

Mr. Bertini laughed condescendingly. "I'm sorry, dearie, but I don't deal with underlings. I only deal with the bosses."

"I am one of the bosses," Tris told him, "and whether you deal with me or one of my uncles, your proposal will still cross my desk, and I still have a say in the outcome. So you can either pitch to me or rearrange to meet with one of my uncles, but I will assure you if you refuse this meeting, they will look less favorable on a second one."

"I will not be spoken to like that from you, young lady," Mr. Bertini ground out, standing from the chair, his face turning a shade of red.

Tris settled back in her large chair. "And I will not have my time wasted by you, Mr. Bertini. The name on the door says Beatrice Prior. Vice President and CEO. My Uncle Mason is a very busy man as is my Uncle Henry, and I am a very busy woman so you can make your choice."

The younger man grinned to her, finally stepping into the conversation. "I'm sure my father did not mean to disregard you, Miss Prior. I'm sure he will be happy to discuss our business with such a strong, dominant woman."

Mr. Bertini looked with shock at his son, but as the younger man settled into his chair, so he slowly returned to his seat.

…

Tris stormed through the wide front door of the mansion a few hours later, her mood darkened by her meeting with the arrogant Mr. Bertini and his son, Anthony.

The elder Bertini had taken every opportunity to belittle her, complaining at her lack of age and experience, despite the fact she had been working for The Prior Group for the last three years. She took pride in her work and though she may lack in years, her experiences and success usually preceded her.

She knew her job, she did it well, and it was the pompous asses like Bertini, who found it hard to deal with women in the first place, never mind those who were maybe 30 years younger than him that made her job difficult. She was grateful his son Anthony had joined the meeting because if not, she might have needed to call Amar for clean up after she was forced to take the meeting to a whole different level.

The card Anthony Bertini pressed into her hand at the end of their meeting, assuring her his cell number was on the reserve, was tossed in the trash as soon as he exited her office. There was a time that crisp white card would have been placed somewhere safe, to be used when she was feeling particularly lonely and didn't feel like trawling the clubs looking for someone to play with.

Tris smiled when she admitted to herself those days were over.

She knew Four was home, his presence in the house surging through her as she felt the now familiar pricking at her senses whenever he was close, as though the cells in his body were calling out to hers, demanding they find their mate in the other's body.

She looked up the marble staircase, knowing she should take her bags up to her room, but wanting to find Four as soon as possible so he could pull her from her black mood. The need to see Four won, and she stopped one of housekeeping workers, a woman nearing 50 who had worked for The Dauntless for as long as Tris could remember.

"Carmen, would you mind taking these to my room, please?" she asked pleasantly, not usually one to ask such tasks from the housekeeping team.

"Of course, Miss Tris," the Hispanic woman smiled, eager to assist the woman she'd watched grow from a bubbly young girl to the spirited woman before her.

"Thank you," Tris smiled, handing her briefcase and laptop bag over before slipping out of the light blazer she had worn to the office.

She immediately headed down the long hallway to her right, her instincts taking over as she honed in on Four.

She again wondered if this almost symbiotic state between the two of them was something born from their abilities to bend and control the molecules around them. But, to be truthful, she didn't really care what it was, she just knew she had been lost before she found Four.

She moved through the house, letting her instincts guide her, trusting they knew where Four currently was even if she didn't. She exited through the double glass doors which opened onto the back terrace, her eyes roaming the vast expanse of the estate behind the building.

She turned left, walking along the marble terrace while searching the area. Electricity seemed to course through her as she passed a window, and she stopped, moving closer to the open frame, her mind registering male voices coming from within.

"I can't believe this sick bastard has the balls to do something to provoke us like this," Caleb was saying, and Tris inched closer to the glass, intrigued by what they were discussing.

"The man killed an innocent girl just to get our attention," Zeke reasoned, and Tris stiffened slightly, now knowing they were talking about her parents' killer.

"He's not a man, he doesn't even come close," Four hissed.

"Judging from this photo, I think Uncle Mason needs to step up protection on you, too, Four," Caleb said, and Tris felt Four bristle with irritation at that suggestion.

Tris didn't dare glance through the window, in fact she was amazed Four hadn't realized she was there, but she didn't need to look. She could almost feel the tension in the room; it was throbbing like a heartbeat.

"I don't need protection," Four growled back.

Tris heard some rustling and then Caleb, "This tells me you do."

"All these photos tell us is there is someone out there who wants to finish what he started eight years ago," Four shot back. "And I'd go to hell before I let that happen."

"Maybe Tris shouldn't go on anymore missions," Zeke speculated.

"She's our best agent," Caleb returned, then added quickly. "Just don't tell her I said that. Uncle Mason will never intentionally keep her back."

"Not even to keep her safe?" Four responded, his voice portraying his astonishment.

"And Tris won't have it either," Caleb concluded, and Tris nodded, agreeing with her brother. They couldn't hold her back even if they tried, and her uncle understood that.

She could sense Four's agitation bubbling, threatening to explode, and there was more rustling, as if paper was being moved. A warm breeze played with strands of her hair, lifting then from her face briefly as she listened in from outside, hating herself for eavesdropping but not moving none-the-less.

"Look at this," he said, his voice rising, "look what he did to her when he had her last. You want that to happen again?"

"I know what he did," Caleb hollered back. "I saw it with my own eyes. I don't need some picture to remind me."

Tris balked from where she stood by the window, feeling the blood rush from her face, her head becoming light and woozy and bile began to rise in her throat. They had a picture! A picture taken of her from the time she was held in her own house by a psycho? She pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling nauseous. She didn't remember him taken any photographs, but there were times when she been unconscious and could only speculate what had happened during them.

She didn't know what made her feel worse: the fact he took pictures of her which she knew nothing about, or the fact he still had those images. For a moment, she wondered if he looked at them often, her mind filling with all the possibilities of what could be captured in those pictures, and she shuddered, suddenly overwhelmed by the seriousness of the situation. He really was out there and could be lurking anywhere. She leaned against the warm limestone brick of the house, taking several deep breaths as she listened to the guys talking in the room.

"This can't happen again," Four was saying. "I refuse to let anything happen to her, and trust me, I can be just as stubborn as she is."

"You don't need to tell me that," Caleb returned, his voice rising with each word. "You think I want to watch her go through all that shit again?"

"Hey, guys," Zeke interrupted them. "Yelling at each other isn't going to achieve anything."

There was silence in the room for a moment, and Tris slid gracefully to the marble surface of the terrace beside the window, mindless that her silk of her dress was catching against the rough brick.

"I think it's best we don't tell her you got these pictures in the mail," Caleb said, his voice lowering to a normal tone. "The less she knows, the better."

"Do you think that's wise?" Zeke questioned. "Surely she would be able to better protect herself if she knew everything that was going on."

"No, Caleb's right," Four answered. "If she is still intent on going out on missions, thinking this guy is out there, stalking her, would only distract her, and that's when the shit hits the fan."

Tris was shocked! Shocked they would keep something this important from her. Admittedly, she didn't know everything that was happening, but she knew it involved her, Four, and the monster who killed her parents. Over the years, she tried hard not to think about what he did to her, and instead focused on what he did to her parents, as it seemed the only way to stay sane in this fucked up messed.

"Well, I think you're both wrong on this, but I will respect your wishes," Zeke said, and Tris could detect the uneasiness in his voice.

"I'll show these pictures to Uncle Mason," Caleb offered, and there was a slight sound of papers being gathered together.

"The originals are with the C.P.D.," Four informed him. "Since they are connected to an ongoing homicide case, I had no choice."

"Okay," Caleb returned, and Tris heard movement and then a door opening and closing.

"I'm gonna say it again, Four. I don't think keeping this from Tris is wise," Zeke said. "She has an innate ability to know when things are out of balance, and you are gonna be on edge. She'll know something is wrong."

Four sighed deeply. "I hear what you're saying, Zeke, and I understand. I just want… I just need…"

"You want to keep her safe," Zeke replied softly, "I get that, Four, but Tris is hardly the girl you can place on a pedestal and expect her to stay there. She's been alone for a long time, not physically alone, because, let's face it, living here, that's not gonna happen. And her grandfather, uncles, and Caleb would never let that happen, either, but in here," and Tris imagined him placing his hand over his heart, "in here, she's been alone for the last eight years. He didn't only take her parents, he took a part of her, too, and she been searching for something to fill that hole within her."

Zeke paused before continuing, and Tris strained her ears, interested in hearing whatever Zeke would say next. "She's found that in you, Four, and she won't just sit by and let you take care of her, or allow the slightest chance that you could be taken from her. She's a fighter, and she will fight to her last breath for you; for the both of you."

"I don't want her to have to fight," Four returned, his voice low, but his emotions open for all to hear. "I want her to be free from all this, to not have those memories locked inside her."

"That's not gonna happen. You can't magic away what happened. If it was that easy, it would have been done years ago."

There was silence for a moment.

"But I think she will be free. You both will find this man, together, and then he will be gone, and you will grow old together, sitting here in matching rockers with a multitude of little Divergents running around."

"I'll hold you to that," Four sniffled, and Tris lifted a hand to her face, surprised to feel tears running down her face, too.

Zeke's words resounded in her heart, and she knew what he was saying was true. She only wished, no, hoped, that what he said would come to pass.

She rubbed at her wet cheeks with her fingers, wiping the tears away, the tender moment passing as her anger built again.

They intended to keep this from her, treating her like a simpering woman who couldn't defend herself.

That pissed her off.

…


	29. Chapter 29

Happy Wednesday!

This baby keeps on bring new readers in, I'm truly amazed. Welcome to all newbies, thanks for the alerts and favoriting The Dauntless.

To my guest reviewers thanks for your thoughts and comments.

Thanks, as always, to cjgwillliams and her tolerance of my rambling.

And so...on to the next chapter.

* * *

Chapter 29

Tris stormed back through the vast house, and as she passed the door to the room where Four and Zeke were still inside, probably talking about her and plotting to keep more things from her, her eyes narrowed accusingly.

She trusted Four, trusted him more than any other person in this world, outside of her family. And it was more than trusting him with her body; her heart was something she didn't give over as easily. And she thought he understood that, but obviously not if he was going to make the decision to keep this from her.

She took the stairs two at a time, which was not easy in her heels and dress, and she stalked down the hallway to their room. Her briefcase and laptop were lying neatly on the edge of the large bed, and she knew Carmen also would have hung her blazer in her huge, walk-in closet.

She quickly stripped out of her silk dress, finally noting the pulled threads in the fabric on the back and cursed as she threw it in the trash instead of her hamper, angry at the fact that Four and Caleb's secrets destroyed one of her favorite dresses. The fact she was the one to blame for the physical ruin of the dress when she chose to sit and lean against the wall seemed to escape her in that moment. She didn't even bother with a shower, and she simply grabbed the first items of clothing she found, a pair of yoga pants and a sports bra, pulling them on hastily. She paused by the mirror before reaching into a drawer to snatch an elastic hairband, pulling her hair into a messy ponytail as she slipped her feet into a pair of worn sneakers.

The whole process took less than five minutes, and then she was out of the door again, heading back toward the stairs. She paused at the top, hearing Four's voice drift up from the hallway beneath her.

She turned quickly, knowing he knew she was home, and headed for the east wing of the house instead. For the first time since she met Four, she didn't want to see him yet, and that bothered her… though it bothered her even more that he was choosing to keep information from her.

She continued in the direction of the east wing. It seemed like it had been ages since she had been in this area of the great house, and she paused briefly outside her parents' room, placing her hand tenderly on the wood of the door and closing her eyes, remembering her happy, carefree parents for just a moment.

After a few seconds, she removed her hand and continued down the hallway, ignoring her old room completely. She rounded a corner and ran down a set of stairs that the older family members called the back stairs. She wasn't even sure some members of The Dauntless knew about these plain, oak wood stairs that led down and into the back of the kitchen's vast pantry, and she was all for taking advantage of it tonight, wanting to avoid Four at all costs for the first time since their meeting and get her head on straight before she did see him.

She moved from the pantry, grabbing a box of crackers on her way, and she entered into the bustling kitchen, peeking into a simmering pot as she passed. She froze when Greg, The Dauntless' chef, noticed her and crossed the kitchen in a flash, his eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

His hand gripped her arm, and he tugged her toward the door leading out of his domain and into the hallway.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Tris?" he bellowed. "Stay out of my kitchen!"

"What are you making for dinner?" she asked, twisting her head back to watch his assistants chopping, stirring, sautéing and doing over things at various stages of the cooking process.

"Join us in the dining room and find out," was his terse reply as he attempted to maneuver her out of his space.

"Is it spaghetti? I hope it is. I've had a shit awful day," she moaned.

Greg deposited her out in the hallway, "Go find your girls or your boyfriend and get out of your funk, Tris," he told her before turning her around, patting her on her ass to send her on her way.

"And don't spoil your dinner with those crackers," he added as she headed in the direction he had started her on.

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Tris mumbled to herself as she walked down the corridor, shaking her head at the way some of the workers in this house still treated her like a child. She opened the box and pulled a few crackers out, munching as she wandered past a couple of rooms, smiling at a few of her fellow agents before continuing on in her search for a way to release the anger bubbling within her.

Ten minutes later, she entered the gym and she immediately headed for the treadmill, her favorite warm up machine, and set a steady pace to get her muscles ready for more rigorous exercise. She switched her mind off as her feet pounded the conveyor belt of the machine.

Forty-five minutes later, she moved away from the equipment, her heart beating rapidly within her chest to cope with the adrenaline pulsing through her body. She moved over to the large, glass fronted refrigerator that held bottles of water. She scanned the room as she greedily gulped the cool water. Around fifteen Dauntless members were currently using the impressively stocked gym; she noted Christina and Will over by the free standing punching bags; Will holding one while Christina pummeled the polyester shell, and Tori was taking time out of her medical duties to work on a cross-trainer. Tris smiled when she saw Zeke discreetly glancing at her friend while he was sparring with Peter out on one of the central mats. Over in another corner she also spied Marlene sitting on a bench, intently watching Uriah while he used the dumbbells. Tris shook her head, smiling at her friend, as he kissed his bicep every time he lifted each weight.

She moved across the room, debating her next piece of equipment. Her body was still wired and, after sex, exercise was the next best thing to release her built-up energy. The exercise bikes were a bore, she didn't like the rowing machine, what she really needed was something to hit, to work out some aggression and anger that had built up in her over her inability to control the events around her.

She found herself at the edge of the large mat in the center of the room, watching Zeke and Peter fight with a few other users of the gym. She observed with a critical eye, picking up on small errors both men made, while appreciating the flow of their movements, the ease with which they moved, and the way their muscles reacted to their actions.

She winced when Peter delivered a particular hard blow and Zeke collapsed to the mat, breathing hard with his hand over his ribs.

Peter bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he breathed hard for a minute, before offering a hand to Zeke to help him up.

"You okay?" he asked and Zeke just nodded as he half stumbled from the mats, Tori rushing over to give him a hand.

Peter grinned as he glanced over the onlookers. "Who's next?"

Tris swiveled her head side to side to see who would take him up on his offer and when nobody did, she handed off her bottle of water to the person beside her and stepped out onto the black square of protected flooring.

She watched as Peter smirked at her, taunting her, bouncing a little on the spot to keep his muscles warm. "Knew it wouldn't be long until you had to have your hands on me again," he goaded.

"Shut up, Peter," Tris shot back as she rolled her shoulders, circling him.

He grinned evilly, knowing his words, his unspoken challenge, would spur her on.

Peter copied her, mirroring her actions, his smirk still plastered on his face. "Let's see if I can't get you on your back…again."

"Yeah, you keep on dreaming, Hayes," Tris shot back.

"Always…babe."

Tris swung her arm out, intent on her hand connecting with Peter's neck but he dodged it easily. They had sparred together many times in the past, especially when they were lovers, so he could anticipate her actions easily.

Peter came at her with a roundhouse kick and she dropped low and swept his legs out from under him, taking him down. He scissored his legs with lightning speed, taking her down with him, again. They hopped back up instantly, squaring off again. She dodging as his fist lashing out when he came at her in a rush, giving her no option to do anything but defend herself. She lashed out with right/left combo, driving Peter back a step, feigned a kick, and then threw out a punch, snapping his head back.

"Fuck yeah, there you are. That angry little girl determined to show the world no man can overpower her, hold her down and dominate her."

Tris shuddered at his goading, hating that he knew too much about her, that he could so easily dig up her fears and hurl them at her. _What had she ever found attractive in this man?_

Across the room Will straightened from the half-bent position he'd adopted while holding the punching bag for Christina, when he saw Tris step onto the fighting mat.

"Shit," he mumbled, just as Christina hit the solid mass and it pushed back onto him, hitting him hard on the shoulder. "Fuck, Chris," he cried out, his hand automatically covering the area.

"Well, pay attention," she shot back, bringing her fists up to start again.

"Shit's about to go down," he said to her, pointing to the center of the room and causing Christina to turn.

"Oh excellent, a Tris and Peter fight. Haven't seen one of those in a while," Christina grinned, moving away from Will and over to the matts.

"This is not going to end well," Will mumbled but followed her over nonetheless.

Tris and Peter continued to circle each other, both feigning strikes and dodging easily.

"So, you gonna make a move or what?" she asked.

"You'll know when I make my move," Peter returned, his innuendo not lost on her, or the people watching.

He did a double step forward before turning his body, squatting low as he rotated, intent on knocking Tris's legs out from under her, like she'd just done. She jumped with just the right amount of lift to clear Peter's legs and, spinning in the air, her right leg shot out, catching Peter's jaw with a satisfying whack.

Peter rolled with the hit, somersaulting on the mat before jumping to his feet. His hand reached up and tenderly rubbed at his chin. "Great move," he said with admiration. "That's new."

"A lot is new," Tris shot back, bouncing on her toes, ready for whatever he threw at her next.

Peter moved to her left, knowing that was her weak side, and his arm lashed out, his fist connecting with her body in a brutal kidney punch.

Tris hissed as sharp pain burst through her, her body bending sideways slightly to try and ease the sting of his hit. Her eyes found his smirk infuriating, and she shifted forward, her elbow connecting with his neck as if on its volition. He stumbled away from her, his eyes wide but that smirk still on his lips.

They moved around the mat, hitting and punching with pent up frustration on both sides. Tris absentmindedly thought she shouldn't be sparring with him, not when her emotions were uncontrolled as they seemed to be right now. Tris ducked to the side, her left foot shot out, grazing his side and Peter's fist hit her ribs straight on.

She twisted away from his hit, wincing slightly at the pain but unwilling to show any emotion on her face. His foot caught her unprepared and she tumbled to the matt. She swept her legs out, one foot hitting the back of his knee and he crumbled beside her. She moved quickly, swinging herself over him, pinning him to the matt as she straddled his chest.

"Now, that's more like it," Peter grinned up to her, blood on his teeth and a cut above his eye.

"Shut up," she grumbled, leaning her forearm against his throat. "Do you yield?"

"Never," Peter smirked, pushing up on his body and tumbling her off him. She rolled as she went before jumping back to her feet. She sprang into action before Peter was fully off the floor, her foot hitting him in his solar plexus.

His breath whooshed from him, but he grabbed her foot and yanked. She turned with the force of his pull, landing on her stomach with an exhale. Before she could move, Peter was on her, twisting her left arm hard behind her so her hand was held halfway up her back, and his body covering hers, immobilizing her completely.

"Get off me," she hissed.

"Do you yield?" he teased, his breath warm against her ear.

Tris closed her eyes, knowing her anger was building deep within her and if she didn't take control of it, it would control her and she would do something she would later, probably, regret. But she would never yield. Not like this. Not to Peter.

"This stirs up some great memories," he whispered lecherously into her ear, and Tris thrashed beneath him, desperate in that moment to escape his hold.

"Yeah, that's right, babe, wriggle all you like. You know that's how I like it. It's so hot," he teased.

She stilled completely, concentrating every muscle in her body to relax. When he felt her submit, his grip on her lessened and she grinned.

She pushed against him, adding an extra push with her Divergent abilities as she went, rolling their bodies as one until Peter on his back. Her legs moved quickly, lifting up and over her own head, and his, completing a back roll off his body.

She stood above him, her breath harsh, almost violent. Her foot moved and collided with his ribs, three times before he grabbed it. This time she was ready for it and she jumped, putting her full weight into his hand, which sent it crashing to the mat.

She ground her heel into his palm, smirking when he yelped with pain.

"Someone should stop this," Will said to Christina, worried at how Tris seemed to be losing her control.

"He deserves everything she gives him," Christina spat to her boyfriend, remembering all the times Peter had infuriated Tris with his inability to accept their relationship was over. Although, she would admit, she may be a little bias on this.

Will looked over to Zeke, to see the other man apparently agree with him, and they both took a tentative step onto the mat. They stopped when Tris growled. "Stay out of this."

In that time, Peter had regained his stance, shaking his hand. "That was low, Tris. Even for you."

She ignored him, watching him as she circled. "Do you yield?" She eventually asked.

He grinned as he raised his fists, ready to start again.

She moved first, her fist landing solidly against his jaw, his head whipping back with the impact. He retaliated with his own hit to her face. She could feel the blood trickling from the split lip he gave her.

Her next hit connected with his windpipe, his breath stuttering with the force, his hit was an uppercut to her ribs.

She refused to yield, to let him win, and she pushed back harder, firmer, not content until he was on his knees, breathing with a concerning wheeze, with her standing tall over him.

"Do you yield?" Her voice was hard, strong, her anger evident.

He nodded slowly, defeated, not completely trusting his voice.

"Say it," she demanded, needing to hear him submit.

"I yield," he rasped.

Tris let a smile grow on her lips before she turned her back on him. She immediately saw Christina and Tori; Christina's eyes gloating over her friend's defeat of Peter, Tori's deep, dark eyes evident with their concern over her friend.

Tris stormed past them, grabbing her water bottle back from whoever held it, heading for the exit. "Don't," she ordered when Tori opened her mouth to express her distress over what she had witnessed.

Tori and Christina exchanged a look before they both turned to follow Tris, Christina flashing her eyes to Will in a silent request for him to follow them.

They trailed behind her quietly, passing concerned glances, until Tris turned abruptly into an empty room.

She flopped onto the couch, lifting her feet to rest them on the glass coffee table.

"Tris?" Christina said to her friend carefully, peering down at her with wide brown eyes, her question remaining unspoken.

Tris mumbled a quick, "I'm okay," before taking another drink form her bottle of water as Christina and Will joined her on the couch. Tori's gaze swept the room looking for something to mop the blood from Tris' face.

Tris' body shook a little with the adrenaline coursing through her. She was hot, sweaty, bloodied and, for some reason, she didn't feel any better for having taken her anger and frustration out on Peter. Sure he had teased and taunted her during their fight, almost as if he needed to unleash the demon within her as much as she needed to let that dark person out, but she had fought dirty. Used her abilities against one who couldn't fight back to that degree. That had always been a big thing for her.

And now she had crossed that line she had set for herself, what did that mean? She realized she had gone into that gym looking for something to hit, to punch away her frustration at the situation. To hurt someone like she'd been unable to do eight years ago when she'd been at the mercy of a sadistic killer. The knowledge he had photos of her, from that time, of her naked and no doubt open to him, made her feel sick and repulsed. And now others had seen it too, seen what he had done to her, with her, how he had reduced her to nothing but a thing to play with, to torture.

She shuddered at that thought.

"Hey Will," Tris suddenly said. "You wouldn't keep a secret from Christina, right?"

"A secret?" Will queried looking to his girlfriend, then back to Tris. He saw the blaze in her eyes and immediately answered, "No. Of course not."

"I'm not talking about a little secret here, like the way her laugh can be really annoying at times," Tris explained, waving her hand at Tori's arm as the doctor dabbed at her lip with a Kleenex.

"Tris," Tori said sternly, her dark eyes catching Tris' in reprimand and Tris let her continue.

"What?" Christina exclaimed loudly, sounding offended by Tris' observation of her laugh, almost stopping Tori in her cleaning of Tris' face.

"I'm talking about a huge secret, something you know would cause her pain and dredge up memories best forgotten," Tris continued, ignoring Christina's outrage at her previous statement and the shocked expression the other girl was shooting her, and she winched slightly as Tori pressed hard against her lip.

"Well, yeah, I guess I would if…" he stopped, balking at the cold look Tris gave him. "I mean, no, I would tell her everything."

"Men," Tris huffed, knowing his first answer was the more truthful of the two. "Testosterone filled, stinking, good for nothing Neanderthals. All of the male gender is the same."

She lifted her hand and stopped Tori. "I'm okay, Tori," she said sincerely, taking the balled up tissue and holding it to her lip.

Will swung his head to Christina, whispering. "And at those words, I think I'd better leave before she hands me my balls on a platter."

"I think that might be wise," Christina grinned, winking at the man.

"I'll find you later," Will said before placing a kiss on her cheek and rising to his feet to scamper from the room before Tris directed her anger toward another man at him.

"Sure," she answered, though her eyes were on Tris, watching as the younger girl swiped once more at her lip before tossing the bloodied Kleenex onto the table, seemingly unaware that Will was making his exit.

Once Will left, Christina scooted closer to Tris, Tori collapsing onto the couch the other side of her. "Okay, babe. What's up?"

Tris exhaled slowly, leaning back and staring at her friends before uttering, "Four lied to me."

"I don't believe that!" Tori exclaimed immediately, her eyes wide.

"Well, he hasn't yet, but he will," Tris returned.

Tori sighed at Tris's overly dramatic statement. "Tris, you can't dwell on things that might happen in your relationship."

"Of course, he's gonna lie to you!" Christina added. "You don't really want to know if you're getting fat, do you?"

"Yes, I do," Tris said quietly, "but that's not what I mean. He's going to lie to me the next time I see him."

"Have you had some bad tequila, babe?" Christina asked, confused. "Are you getting a fever?"

"No," Tris replied gruffly, swatting Christina's hand away when the other girl lifted it to test her forehead.

"Then tell us what's actually wrong," Christina whined.

Tris nervously nibbled on a nail, something she hadn't done for years, and Christina was mildly worried at her friend's behavior. Tris hadn't been this jittery since her pregnancy scare just after she started her training for The Dauntless. During that time, Christina was a new agent who had bonded with Tris during her training, and the entire experience had been unnerving.

"I overheard a conversation I shouldn't have," she finally admitted, her golden-hazel eyes meeting Christina's deep brown before she turned her head to look at Tori.

"Oh. No good comes from eavesdropping, Tris," Tori warned.

Christina, her eyes darted to the door, leaned in a little closer. "What did you hear?"

"Apparently, Four had some pictures delivered at work, and he's not gonna tell me about them," Tris confessed before chewing on her bottom lip.

Christina moved back, her eyes wide. "Are these, ya know, porn pictures? Because Tris, all guys do that. You know this."

"No, Christina," Tris answered with a roll of her eyes.

"Then…"

"I think these pictures were of me."

"You had naked pictures taken?"

"Christina, will you stop dwelling on the porn?" Tris cried. "This is serious."

Christina closed her mouth and nodded to Tris, indicating she was ready to hear whatever the girl had to say.

"I think someone has been taking pictures of me, and one was of Four and me together."

Christina opened her mouth to say something, and Tris shook her head. "No, not that together. Together when we were at the pier having fun."

"Oh," Christina finally understood. "Why?"

Tris chewed her lip again nervously. "There was also one from before, ya know? When I was at home, just after my folks died."

She still couldn't say _rape_. It was the one word she struggled with because it terrified her, debilitated her.

Christina looked confused for a minute, then finally caught on. "Oh, and the psycho sent these to Four?"

"Yeah, and he and Caleb have decided it's 'best' not to tell me," Tris finished, disgust evident in her tone.

"So he's gonna lie because he's not gonna tell you something you already know," Christina clarified, her brows furrowing in concentration.

"But he doesn't know I know, and he should tell me," Tris whined.

"Who should tell who what?" a new voice asked, and the girls turned to see Marlene enter the room.

Tris quickly retold her tale to Marlene while the taller girl settled herself on the couch beside Tori.

"So they don't want you to see that horrid picture. I don't see the problem," Marlene finally surmised when Tris finished.

"They wanna put me in this little box and keep me safe," Tris moaned. It irritated her beyond words that they thought she needed to be protected; to be taken care of.

"What's wrong with that?" Marlene asked with a shrug of one shoulder.

"What's wrong with that?" Tris exclaimed loudly. "I can do more damage than the three of them put together. That's what's wrong with that!"

"But they are guys," Christina observed, like it was obvious. "They have this inherent thing where they have to protect the woman. It's a thing, a real thing. Right, Tori?"

"Well, I don't know about that," Tori laughed, "but yeah, if you really care about a person, you would do all you can to protect them."

"I don't need protecting," Tris mumbled, folding her arms across her chest, a pout forming on her battered lip, as her mind milled over Tori's words. What lengths would she go to if Four was under threat? Would she act the same if she knew his father was in town? Tris knew Four still hurt over his abuse at the hands of his parent; that one person who was supposed to protect you, keep you safe. Tris admitted to herself that yes, she would do anything to keep Four safe.

She bristled slightly as she become conflicted.

"Tris, there is a crazed person out there who is intent on killing you or something worse," Tori continued. "Four loves you. Why can't you see that and acknowledge the fact he's going want to keep you safe and out of harm's way? He knows what this guy did the last time he got his hands on you. He doesn't want that to happen again; none of us do, and I'm sorry, but…" Tori trailed off, unsure how much of the truth Tris was ready to hear.

"But what…?"

"If it came down to a choice of my siding with Four and keeping you safe, or siding with you and watching you die, Four will win every time."

"That goes for me, too," Christina added.

"And me," Marlene said with a nod. "This death wish of yours has got to end."

Tris startled a little at Marlene's statement. True, there had been a point in her life where she took incredible risks, half the time not caring if she lived or died. An image burst into her mind of her first meeting with Four in that dank alley. She could almost visualize the bullet that had hurtled toward her and she remembered thinking she was going to die, right there and then, and she almost welcomed it.

But now, that part of herself that wanted it all to end was growing dimmer each day. She couldn't say for certain there wasn't still something inside of her that wouldn't embrace death as a means to end her never-ending struggle to escape her past, but she was positive there was a huge part of her that wanted to live.

"I… I… I don't want to die," Tris admitted softly.

"And we have Four to thank for that. You have to be honest with yourself, Tris. Your lifestyle isn't exactly the most wholesome or safest," Christina informed her seriously.

"Occupational hazards," Tris huffed half-heartedly.

"You take crazy risks when out on missions. More than any of us," Christina provided as evidence.

"That's my job," Tris reasoned.

"You drink alcohol like it's water," Tori added. "It's a wonder your liver still functions."

"Only because my body refuses to be affected," Tris countered.

"You pick men up like they're gonna suddenly disappear," Marlene continued.

"And then toss them aside when you're through with them," Christina finished. "You know Peter is the way he is because of the way you treated him when you wanted out of that relationship."

"That's not having a death wish. It's called living… being young and enjoying life," Tris returned.

"Until it kills you," Tori whispered. "It's reckless, Tris. Careless. It's almost like you are trying to draw something bad to yourself."

Tris started to protest when Christina said quietly, "Just look at the fight you had with Peter."

Tris frowned. "What about it? Trust me," she snorted, "Peter wasn't all roses and hearts while we were together."

"I don't doubt that, but he was that way because that's the way you wanted him to be," Christina counselled. "And just now, that fight you two had, you were both as bad as the other. Taunting each other the way you know is gonna hurt the most. Peter's like that because he loved you and you laughed at that. Dismissed him and his feelings carelessly with a wave of your hand.

"You were vicious, Tris. More vicious than I've seen you act in a long time with one of us. Don't get me wrong," Christina grinned, "it was entertaining as hell, and he deserved every bit of it and more but look at how he's acting. You and Dimi managed to be friendly after you guys broke up but that's not the case with Peter. Did you ever think part of the reason Peter has such a hard time with you is because you treated him carelessly?"

"Hey, when did this turn into a Tris bashing?" Tris moaned. Their words had struck a chord with her and she found herself feeling increasingly uncomfortable. It was true, she had been vicious in their fight, but she reasoned it was because she was irritated over those photos. She told herself his taunts hadn't dug deep into her, hadn't caused her fight harder against him. It all came back to those damn pictures. "Four is going lie to me about receiving these photos. This concerns me, like majorly concerns me, and I think I have a right to know."

The other three girls looked at each other, each with their own opinion on the matter.

Christina felt he should tell Tris. How could she protect herself if not?

Tori thought Four had every right to keep it to himself, knowing his only thought would be to keep Tris safe.

Marlene admired Four and the strength of his feelings for her friend, but also recognized Tris needed to be aware that things were not completely safe for her.

Tris looked at her friends before sighing. "Fundamentally, I understand his reasoning for not telling me about the photos, but how can you build a relationship on lies?"

The three girls exchanged a glance before Marlene and Christina both encouraged Tori to ask the important question. "Tris," she started tentatively, "have you told Four all of what happened to you, ya know? Everything."

"Of course he knows what happened," Tris returned, though her eyes didn't meet any of the girls in the room.

"No, I mean, does he know everything? More than you've told anybody, including Jack," Tori clarified.

Tris turned her head, looking away and down onto the hardwood flooring. "He doesn't need to know that."

"Isn't that lying?" Marlene ventured cautiously.

"No, he doesn't need to know the details. What good would come of that?" Tris justified her inability to talk about her confinement with her boyfriend.

"Let's just imagine that Four feels exactly the same way about not telling you about the photos? What good would it do?" Tori reasoned, throwing Tris's words back at her.

"A hell of a lot," Tris replied vehemently. "I can protect myself. Knowing what happened to me is not gonna change anything. It still happened."

"And maybe Four thinks the same thing. He may not want to know the details, but he needs to for your relationship to survive," Tori theorized.

"Tori, I already have one shrink," Tris sighed, her head falling into her hands. "I don't need another."

"We just think you are both holding information back for the good of the other," Christina entered the conversation, her eyes swinging to Tori and Marlene for confirmation, and the two other girls nodded their agreement.

"Lying by omission," Marlene nodded.

"I don't see what the problem is," Tris huffed but her heart was beating wildly in her chest at the idea that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't on as strong a moral high-ground as she thought.

"Then you're at an impasse," Christina said bluntly. "It's hard to expect him to be completely honest with you if you aren't willing to do the same." Silence fell between the four women.

"So what are you gonna do?" Tori asked Tris gently after a minute.

Tris thought for a moment, about what the girls had said. Four loved her. She was sure of it. In the time that she'd know him, he'd proved himself to be an honorable man, a loyal one. Maybe having a little faith in him would be worth it.

"I'm gonna act like I don't know until he tells me," Tris said confidently. Now that she'd settled on a plan, she began to feel better, her racing heart finally beginning to slow.

"What if he doesn't?" Marlene probed.

"He will," Tris answered with a knowing grin.

"Ah, she's gonna withhold sex," Christina said knowledgeably, attempting to lighten the mood.

Christina's ploy worked. "Now let's not get crazy," Tris laughed. "That would never work. I'd crack first."

"So…" Tori asked again, her hand moving in an encouraging circle.

"Nothing, I'm just gonna wait. He'll tell me," Tris reassured them.

"How do you know?" Marlene questioned.

"I just know," she answered.

….

Tris stayed in the lounge, finally allowing Four to find her not long after, and true to her word, she acted like nothing was wrong as she and the girls continued a light conversation after their heavier-hitting one from earlier.

Tris' friends chimed their greeting to Four as he moved into the space easily, and they sat back, observing his interaction with their friend, who was sprawled out on one couch. The adrenaline of her fight finally had left her muscles and she was now feeling the aftereffects.

"I thought you were home…" Four's wide grin slipped when he focused in on her face. "What the hell happened?" he asked, concerned evident in his voice, his hands reaching for her bruised face.

"Oh nothing," Tris dismissed his worries, her fingers probed at her swollen lip as Four crouched down beside her.

"Like hell that's nothing. Looks like someone mistook you for a punching bag," he pushed, his own fingers replacing hers as he pressed at her tender, purple-tinted flesh.

Tris looked timidly at Four, her friends grinning to each other at her contrite look. She knew he wasn't going to like this. "I sparred with Peter," she admitted.

The anger in Four's eyes blazed immediately. "He did this to you? He hit you?" He started to rise but Tris grabbed his arm.

"I hit him first," she shot out almost childishly, not knowing why she needed to tell him that. Maybe it was her earlier conversation with the other women but it was important to her that she accept her part in goading Peter.

"I don't care," he bristled as his hands tilted her head to get a better look at the damage.

"You should see Peter," Christina chimed in, her grin wide.

"I don't think I should be anywhere near Peter at the moment," he seethed, but was content that no lasting damage had been done to his crazed girlfriend.

"What were you thinking?" he asked Tris, slipping onto the couch and pulling her into his lap, his mind constructing a conversation he knew he would be having soon with Hayes.

Tris shrugged as she settled against him, not wanting him to know the real reason: That she had pummeled Peter because she was pissed at him.

"I had a lot of frustration I needed to work out," she offered weakly, hoping he would take her excuse.

"I take it the meeting didn't go as planned," he stated.

"Mr. Bertini is a bigoted shit who thinks all corporate bosses should have dicks," she moaned, flashing back to her afternoon meeting with the insufferable Bertinis.

"I don't think you should have a dick," Four grinned.

"Amen to that," Tris grinned back, snuggling into him as Four wrapped an arm around her.

She could sense Four was holding back. His body wasn't exactly tense, but he was definitely on-edge. She was unsure if this was because of her fight with Peter, or the photos he was hiding from her. She guessed this would be a test for their relationship. And what if he did tell her? Would that mean she had to disclose the horrific things she had been through to him? Certainly the two weren't the same. His lie of omission would be worse. Wouldn't it? For the first time, she wasn't quite so sure.

"Tris?"

"Mmhm?" she answered distracted by her thoughts.

"I asked if you're ready for dinner. Personally, I'm starved," Four smiled.

"Ooh, spaghetti," she grinned back. "Yeah, let's go eat. I believe we started something earlier we need to finish."

Four laughed as she wriggled her eyebrows at him and lifted her from his lap.

"Yeah, she'd definitely crack first," Christina smirked as she, Marlene and Tori led the group from the room.

"What's she talking about?" Four asked Tris, following behind the three girls.

"Who knows?" Tris returned with a shrug.

…


	30. Chapter 30

Happy Wednesday, folks!

Hope the past week has treated you all well.

Welcome to all new readers, especially those who were lead here from recommendations. That means I'm doing something right, right?

 **Warning:** I'm adding a warning for this chapter for sexual violence. If you wish to avoid this, ignore the section in italics.

Thanks for all your reviews and pm's, you know I love getting them.

To those I can't answer personally:

aglover810: I feel honored this is one of your three favorite fics. And the best way to enjoy chocolate is bit by bit, savor that chocolately goodness.

Bamcn24: Thanks for your review.

Thanks, as always, to cjgwilliams and her awesomeness. She really makes me delve deep in my own soul sometimes.

Anyway, enough from me, enjoy…

* * *

Chapter 30

Tris smiled at Four when he finally lifted his head from her neck. Rivulets of water were trickling down his body from the shower spray as he leaned completely into her, his legs shaking slightly. He hoped his weight would keep her body upright, because he didn't think he could anymore, and he would hate to see her fall to the tiled floor of the shower.

They breathed in tandem for several seconds before Four rested his head against her shoulder again as Tris ran a hand through his wet hair.

"Maybe we should move into the bedroom," she whispered.

"Can't…move," Four returned, though she could feel his lips against her skin stretch into a smile.

"Come on, big boy. I'm getting cold," she whined.

"I'll warm you up, babe," Four said glibly.

Tris chuckled as she pushed gently on his shoulder, moving him back a little.

The movement separated them slightly, and Tris slipped against the wall. Her eyes opened wide in surprise as Four quickly caught her, wrapping his arms around her and taking his weight on his own two feet again.

"Okay, maybe we'll take this to the bedroom," he laughed.

"Smart move, Bear."

Four turned around and shut off the water, Tris still in his arms, before making his way to the glass door and out of the huge shower he had so easily become accustomed to. He paused briefly to collect two towels before carrying her into the bedroom.

"I think you can put me down now," she whispered against his ear, finishing her sentence with a careful kiss just below his lobe, her lip still sore.

He dropped one towel on the bed before allowing her to slowly lower her legs to the floor, wrapped the large fluffy towel he still held around her once she had her balance. Tris watched as he bent to retrieve the other towel, then he wrapped it around his waist, smirking at her pout.

She moved over and into her over-size closet, seating herself at the vanity in the room and began combing out her hair.

Four watched her from the door as he leaned against the frame. Despite the relaxed and sated feeling he had, his body still buzzed with agitation over the fact Tris had had a physical fight with Peter. And, no doubt, a brutal one at that.

He was aware of The Dauntless' policy of teaching male and female agents to fight against each other, understood it to a degree. But to see the evidence in front of him, to know it had been Peter who had bruised her, cut her lip, it didn't sit well with him.

He remembered Tris telling him, way back in the beginning, that someone had beat the shit out of her for two weeks when she started her training, and Four had a sense that person had been Peter.

He couldn't comprehend a man hitting a woman. It didn't matter that she could give just as well as she received, with her Divergent abilities making up the difference in strength. He also couldn't understand how someone who claimed to have loved her could raise his hand to her, especially knowing her history.

He needed to seek out this Hayes guy and have a serious word with him. Maybe give him a taste of his own medicine.

He blinked when Tris caught his eyes in the mirror.

"I have something to tell you," he blurted out before he could stop himself.

"What?" she asked, her hand stopping mid movement and her eyes showing concern.

Four stepped farther into the room, standing behind her and taking the comb from her hand. Several seconds passed as he gently drew the comb through her hair, concentrating hard on his task. This was a whole new level of intimacy for him, and while it was unnerving, it felt natural. Finally, he lifted his eyes to meet hers again in the large mirror before them. She was watching his every movement.

"I received some pictures in the mail at work today…"

Tris' heart beat double time in her chest. He was telling her; after everything she overheard earlier about his trepidation, about the boys deciding not to inform her of this new turn of events, he was going against his own wishes by telling her. It made her both exhilarated and terrified. She knew if Four was going against his initial reaction, she was going to have to do the same and eventually disclose all the details of the detainment that still played a role in her life after all these years, whether she wanted to or not.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, and they were… they were photographs of you." There, he said it.

"Me?" Tris returned, her eyes wide as she watched him through the mirror. She decided to play innocent for the moment.

"Yeah," he said slowly, leaning forward to place the comb back on the vanity table.

She narrowed her eyes. "What kinda pictures?"

"A corporate portrait…"

 _Okay, that wasn't too bad,_ she thought.

"…maybe a surveillance photo…"

 _That was a little creepy_.

"…one of you and me together at the pier…"

 _More than a little creepy._ She held her breath, knowing the worst was to come.

"And...one… one of…" his voice hitched.

"It's okay, Four," Tris stopped him, standing from the vanity and turning to him. She could see the hesitation in his eyes, the concern in his face with the furrow of his brow. He didn't want to talk about what that picture showed just as much as she didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to put him through that. "I'm sorry, but I already know about the pictures."

"What?"

"I was looking for you when I got home from work, and I accidentally overheard you talking to Caleb and Zeke about them," she told him nervously.

"Accidentally!"

Four looked at her with wide, dark eyes as she nodded.

"The window was open, and I was outside," she explained weakly, her voice low.

"I thought I felt you," Four grinned, momentarily pleased at this new manifestation of his growing powers. His smile soon disappeared and he could feel the fury rising. "You heard everything?"

Tris nodded again.

"I can't believe you would do that." His voice was hard this time.

"I can't believe you guys weren't gonna tell me!" It was her turn to be outraged at his statement. "Only Zeke felt I should know. You can't keep these things from me."

"You shouldn't be listening through windows," he shot back, his voice rising a little.

"I wasn't intentionally listening to anything! I was looking for you," she shot back, defensively.

"But when you found me, you didn't let us know you were there. You just stood and listened in."

"Because you were talking about me."

"Because we want to keep you safe and alive."

"I'm not a child, and you can't treat me like one," was her response. Tris folded her arms under her breasts, the indignation she'd felt earlier returning in full force.

"No, you're not a child, and you haven't been since this whack job got his hands on you. You think I want that to happen again?" he shot back, his voice rising again. His hand curled into fists at his side as he fought to keep from openly screaming at her. He was as terrified for her as he was angry at their inability to so far put this freak in the ground.

"You think I do?" she yelled back at him.

"Tris, I'm not arguing with you on this."

"Well, it sure seems like you are."

There was a moment of silence, and they stared at each other for a few long moments, each catching their breaths. Both willing the other to see their point of view.

Tris's voice broke the silence. "I want to see them."

"Absolutely not," Four returned, shaking his head, her demand to see them not surprising him at all.

"Why? They are of me, aren't they?"

"Tris, there's one he took after he shot you. I don't think you should see it." His voice gentled a little. He hated the idea of her coming face to face with her past.

"Why not?" she challenged, steeling herself at the thought that the creep took a photograph of her like that. "I was there, I know what happened, and I know what to expect."

"I just don't think it's a good idea. Why can't just trust me on this?"

"It's not about trust, Four, it's about you trying to control me, trying to…"

"Damn straight it's about trust," Four interrupted her, his momentary gentleness gone. "It's about you trusting me to know that these pictures are gonna hurt you, play with your head, and take you to a place I never want see you at again. It has nothing to do with _control_." He spat the word vehemently.

If there was one thing for certain in Four's mind, it was he did not want to control her. He knew what it was like to have control taken away from a person, just as much as she did, and the idea that she thought he wanted to do that to her sickened him. He gave her so much in this relationship, relented to her way of doing things when he would normally argue his point of view fearlessly.

He knew she had a control issue just as vast as her trust issue. He could live with her setting the tone in their sex life, at least he thought he could, but he couldn't maintain a relationship with her if she didn't trust him. And there was a niggling thought within him that control and issue went almost hand in hand. Especially in the bedroom.

The frustration bubbled within him. They needed to work on this; she needed to work on this for their relationship to survive. Why couldn't she understand that?

"I _do_ trust you," Tris disagreed. "I've told you that. I just…" she paused gathering her thoughts, trying to find the right words to make Four see this from her point of view.

"If this was the other way around," she said cautiously, knowing she was pushing him now, "if someone had sent me pictures of you when you were at your most vulnerable, would you not want to see them? See the extent of your helplessness and despair, to be able to form some kind of shield to protect yourself against what I was seeing?"

Four swallowed, his jaw clenching at her words. He heard what she was saying, and understood her to a degree, but that didn't stop his need to protect her from what he had seen.

"Tobias," she said softly, "please."

Four sighed, suddenly tired of fighting with her. "Your uncle has them."

"I know," she returned with a smirk.

Four shook his head again, a defeated smile on his face. Of course she knew, and she could have just gone and seen the photos herself. But she didn't. She wanted to hear it from him and see them _with_ him, that had to mean something. He pushed down that part of him that was frustrated with the fact she had, once again, beaten him. He had to reconcile with the fact she hadn't just gone to her uncle's office.

Fifteen minutes later Four and Tris entered into Mason's office.

They had quickly dressed in comfy sweats and headed down to her uncle's domain after no more discussions of the images, Tris having won out.

Tris wasn't bothered by the fact that her uncle was out for the evening. She knew the images would have been placed in the safe he used specifically for information regarding The Dauntless. And since she was a high ranking member, she had access to that safe.

She quickly entered the combination into the door of the wall safe found behind a large portrait of her great-grandfather and swung open the safe, fingering the documents lying on top of the various items in the space. Four reached in past her and grabbed the manila envelope he knew contained the photographs, pulling it out and handing it to her.

She hesitated, second guessing herself for a moment when she finally had the pictures in her hand. She turned with determination and sat in her uncle's chair behind the large mahogany desk. She opened the beige file folder and breathed easy when she saw her Prior Group portrait first.

That wasn't too bad.

The surveillance image disturbed her more than she thought it would, and she fought a shiver. To know someone had been watching her for an unspecified amount of time and had gone undetected unnerved her.

She looked at Four when she saw the one of the two of them, now understanding Caleb's words to him about needing protection himself, zeroing in on the crosshairs that were etched around Four's head in the image and feeling a sudden chill run through her body at the intended threat.

"Caleb's right," she said. "We should up your security."

"Don't worry about me," Four returned tight-lipped.

Tris looked at him, her hand reaching out to stroke his cheek, his skin rough with stubble against her hand. "But I do," she whispered tenderly. She knew that in many ways, this was as hard for him as it was for her. She hoped he realized that she knew that even if she couldn't stop herself from seeing them.

Four turned his head and placed a kiss in her palm, knowing the worse photo was to come.

Tris's fingers shook slightly as she reached out to turn the last image over, but she forced herself to look.

She inhaled sharply at the immortally captured image of herself, half-naked, covered in drying blood, a collection of her life-giving plasma at the apex of her thighs, and a gunshot wound in her torso. She instantly lifted her hand to her side covering where the bullet would have been. Surprisingly, that was the only wound that hadn't scarred her, her swift placement in a unit seeing to that. But she knew, she remembered exactly where it was.

She turned the picture back over with shaking fingers, not wanting to look at it any longer, her mind wondering if the psychopath had more images like this one and if he looked at them often.

She felt sick.

A series of images flashed through her mind of times he could have taken photographs of her and none of them were pretty. She shook her head, dispelling her memories.

Four watched her intently as she looked at herself in the picture, her face expressionless, though he could imagine the emotions bubbling within her. He took the photographs back from her, returning them to the folder and placing them back in the safe, closing the door and replacing the painting without another word.

"You don't need to see anymore," he told her quietly.

He turned back to see she hadn't move from her uncle's chair, her vision unfocused as her mind tried to comprehend why this photo in particular was now in their possession. He noted the slight tremor that rippled through her body and the words _I told you_ so almost fell from his lips. He knew this would be her reaction and he was furious that she'd forced him into watching her like this.

Despite not knowing her for as long as the others in The Dauntless, he had been there to see her fall-out after she had told him about her parents' death and her imprisonment. He had seen first-hand her reaction to the body of Rachel Stanley found in her old house, the scene of her own torture. He knew what it felt like to be at the mercy of another, and he knew she would struggle with seeing that image personally.

But, she was determinedly independent, and he admitted to himself he would never have been able to keep those images from her. A wave of helplessness battled for prominence with the anger inside him. So he

He studied her for a moment, wondering what she was thinking when a question came to his mind. He tried to push it down, but he needed to know. He needed to know the answer to help protect her and he _needed_ to protect her.

"Tris," he started slowly. "What's his name?"

Tris shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut tight, and she was unable to talk for a minute as the image of herself was permanently etched into her brain even though Four had put it away.

"This could help us. Don't you understand that?" Four tried again.

"I can't say it," she returned, her voice harsher than she meant it to be. "Can't you understand that?"

Four closed the space between them, not wanting to argue with her again, and he moved her from the large chair, wrapping his arms around her slim figure, pulling her into a hug in the middle of her uncle's office.

"I understand. I do," he said gently into her ear.

Tris turned her face to his searching his eyes for any sign that he didn't understand. She didn't find anything but acceptance there, and she leaned into him even more, relishing in the feel of his arms around her.

"I love you," he whispered, the words falling natural from his lips, just like he knew they would. She was the love of his life, he knew that, and now she knew it, too.

Tris froze in his embrace, her already rapidly beating heart thumped impossibly quicker at the words that fell lazily from his lips. They washed over her, and she knew this was the most opportune time to let him know how she felt. But she was unable to get the words out. They caught in her throat, fear pushing at her to keep her own feelings private. If she uttered those words back to him, would that be condemning him to death? Would she lose him the way she lost her parents? Her terror that it would kept the words within her.

Four pulled back, concerned he had gone too far with his declaration.

"Why?" she finally asked, her voice timid.

"Why what?" he countered, confused.

"Why do you love me?"

Four's heart almost broke for her, knowing her thoughts that no one could love her. "That's kind of a sad question," he said softly,

"I'm not exactly the easiest of people to get along with," she reasoned. "And the baggage that comes with me, well … I can't think of a fitting metaphor at the moment, but it's a lot."

"Everyone has baggage, Tris. And you know my history is not all sunshine and rainbows. You are one of the strongest, if not the strongest, person I know. I love you because you refuse to let your past dominate your future. I love you because you're honest, sassy, and extremely good in a fight. I love you because you know about my past and you see past the scared little boy I was, the timid teenager, and see the man I want to be. And you make me want to be that man more than anything, for you."

Tris' hand reached up and tenderly caressed his cheek, his facial hair bristling against her fingertips, feeling her heart would burst at his declaration.

"I love you because you're beautiful, inside and out," he finished simply, his eyes burning into hers, wishing he could make her see herself as he saw her.

She pulled his face closer to hers and gently pressed her lips to his. She couldn't say the words, not yet, but she could certainly show him how much she loved him.

They returned to their room, both subdued by the day and what it had brought for them. Four stripped out of his sweats and climbed into the bed wearing only his boxers briefs while Tris changed into one of his old t-shirts he'd brought from his apartment.

"I need to go by my apartment and collect my mail," he told her as she followed him into the bed, feeling the need to fill the silence between them.

"I'll come with you if you want," she suggested, lying on her side to face him.

Four mirrored her position. "Sure. Then maybe we can stop at the post office and change my address."

Tris smiled, knowing he loved her, knowing he had no plans to leave her any time soon. They had survived another argument, and she was sure if it hadn't been for the disturbing picture of herself they had just seen, they would so be having make-up sex right now.

He loved her. She still couldn't wrap her mind around the fact he had voiced his feelings. Sure, she knew he loved her, but to hear those three little words fall from his lips, that was something completely different.

Was she deserving of his love? She had no clue how to answer that. She knew that her feelings for him ran deep. Yes, loved him, but there was that ever present voice in her head that berated her for dragging someone else into her mess of a life. She wanted to believe that with Four things would be different, in truth she knew they already were. What she felt for him surpassed anything she'd felt for anyone else. She wanted to be different for him, to be free from the demons of her past. For him she wanted to be scar-free, to be innocent of all her past recklessness. For him she wished she could be a better person.

Realistically, she knew she couldn't change her past. She just wished her past didn't impact on her present so much. She was scared, that was the bottom line. Scared that if she let Four in completely something would happen and he would be taken away from her, targeted because of his connection to her, because of what he meant to her. That was why she still closed off part of herself from him, refusing to let him in completely. Though, in truth, he was already ingrained so deep within her, she was already lost. The rest was inevitable really.

When he had whispered those words, I love you, so passionately and emotionally, she had wanted to repeat them to him with equal sentiment, but that wall she had built around her heart seemed to add another level. She shook her head, disappointed in herself again at letting something from her past rule her actions today. She absentmindedly thought to arrange a meeting with Jack, needed to talk through her issues, maybe get some answers, for Four's sake as much as her own.

She cast her gaze over him, wanting to give him something in return for what he had so freely given her. She trusted him and knew of one way she could prove it to him.

"Eric," she whispered low, so low Four almost missed it.

"What?" he asked, holding his breath in anticipation, understanding the pain this was causing her.

"His name is Eric," she repeated, just as quietly. "He never told me his last name."

"But we know it starts with a S," Four said, amazed she said it. "Tris, thank you. This could really help."

Tris just nodded, tears forming in her eyes.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked, hopeful.

Tris shook her head, unable to talk.

Four let it go, knowing it must have been a big step for her to just say his name. He reached out and drew her closer, settling her against his chest, hoping his arms would keep away the nightmares today's events might conjure.

…

 _It was dark when she opened her eyes, so dark she couldn't tell if she had indeed opened them. Dark and quiet. The stillness overwhelmed her, made her nervousness because she couldn't determine where he was._

 _She was laying on her side, her head pillowed on her arm and her body half covered with a thin, silk sheet, and she shivered slightly in the cool, night air. The floor was hard beneath her but she barely registered it._

 _She heard him breathing before she felt him, his breath hot against her leg. The feel of his lips spread into a wide grin when she tried to inch her leg away from him, made her nauseous. He knew she was awake._

 _His hand followed his breath, trailing his fingers against her skin, before his hand wrapped around her thigh, tugging it, and her, so she had to roll onto her back. He pulled her leg from beneath the sheet and she shuddered in anticipation of the torture she knew was to come._

 _The flat blade of his knife glided along the skin of her inner thigh, its steel cold, until his hand stilled. The edge tipped, its point pressing into her tender flesh until it broke the skin. She could feel the trickle of blood as it trailed down the contour of her thigh, dripping onto the wood floor._

 _He pulled his body over her, removing the flimsy sheet from her tortured body, looming above her in the dark. He was naked, his body large and muscular._

 _She felt him, hot and hard between her legs, as he grabbed her small wrists, pinning them both above her head, and she steeled herself for the pain she knew would come as he pushed into her._

 _He huffed as he moved, bouts of hot breath on her neck, his large hand holding both her wrists painfully hard over her head._

 _Her blood-slick thigh glided easily over his hip as he hitched her leg up, opening her wider to his onslaught and she whimpered in pain._

 _His unoccupied hand worked its way down her body, squeezing painfully. She felt like she was suffocating with his full weight pressed against her. He dug a finger into cut he had made earlier that day, just above her left hip, the pad ripping at the partially knitted skin until it broke under his touch. He collected the blood on his digits before running the hand up her body, pausing to pinch her nipple sharply, leaving a bloodied fingerprint behind, before continuing up to her throat._

 _He smeared her blood against her soft skin, his fingers wrapping, almost tenderly, around her neck._

 _Then it wasn't tender anymore. He applied pressure._

 _He pressed down with the hand holding her wrists, the same time he pressed his hand hard against her throat, using her as leverage as he pounded into her._

" _You like that?" He taunted. "You like that I'm fucking you like this?"_

 _Black dots splattered around her eyesight, even in the darkness of the room she saw them, and her head became light with the lack of oxygen. Her resolve to survive stalled. She wanted it to be over, to be free from the pain, in her heart and in her body, and she admitted to herself that he had broken her._

Tris bolted upright, gasping for breath. She clawed at her throat, irrationally thinking it would help draw in much needed oxygen, her body trembling and sweat rolled between her breasts and down her back. When her eyes focused on her room, her breathing slowed to something resembling normal.

It was dream, just a dream.

She shivered, remember all too well the feel his hands on her body, his fingers wrapped around her throat.

Her gazed wandered down to Four's sleeping body sprawled beside her. Her sudden movement hadn't stirred him, and for that she was grateful. She knew he would ask questions, probing questions she wasn't ready to answer. She crawled from the bed, pushing her hair back slightly with a shaking hand as she rushed into the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach.

She heaved until there was nothing left, until all she was doing was the motion. She rolled away from the toilet bowl to lay on the cool, tiled floor, her heart pounding in her chest. She closed her eyes, before snapping them opening again; the onslaught of images in her mind were her too much, too strong. She stood shakily, flushing the toilet as she moved to stand before the large mirror behind the sink vanities, stripping Four's tee from her sweat covered body.

Her eyes bore into their reflection and she saw the broken girl she had been. _Was she still that broken?_ She liked to think she had rebuilt that part of herself after her liberation and week-long stay in a unit to recover from the gunshot wound that had been meant to kill her. But maybe she hadn't done as good a job as she hoped if one picture, one piece of visual evidence, could take her right back to that moment she gave up.

She twisted the faucet causing water to spurt into the bowl and she cupped the cold water in her hands. After splashing her face with the cool liquid, and rinsing her mouth, her eyes lifted to the mirror once more. Her gaze lowered, taking in the scars that criss-crossed her naked body, forever proof of what she'd been through.

She shut the water off and stormed from the bathroom, hunting though the bedroom for some articles of clothing. She paused for a moment, looking at Four lying peacefully in bed. She was too raw, too disgusted with herself to face him so she quietly resumed her search for clothes. She found a pair of shorts and pulled them on roughly, her eyes searching for something to cover her top half. Draped over the chaise was one of Four's college sweatshirts and she swept it up in her grasp as she left the room.

…

Tori trudged wearily down the long corridor, coming back to the residential side of the mansion from the addition at the back of the huge house that housed the Medical Center. It had been an unexpectedly long night for her. After the excitement of the sparring between Tris and Peter, things had been rather slow, but then the two agents working on a mission returned injured; one of them with a knife protruding from his thigh, but thankfully, the target had been eliminated.

Tori removed the knife with ease, and now Luke, the non-divergent in the duo of Luke and James, was sleeping in a unit and would wake in a few hours. She intended to be there when he awoke, but the need for nutrition pulled her from her office. She was one of the few people Greg would allow into his kitchen unattended, something for which she was grateful, as sometimes she skipped meals.

She passed one room and then stopped, the low lighting making her pause, and she peered in. She looked around the room and seeing nothing out of place, she turned to leave. It was then she heard a small sniffle. Tori cautiously moved deeper into the room, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dimness within.

She stopped short when she found Tris sitting on the floor, her back against the wall and her knees drawn up in front of her, her arms wrapped around her legs, hugging them to her body. In front of her was a bottle of whiskey and a glass. Tori noted the bottle had yet to be opened.

"Tris?"

Tris sniffled again, wrinkling her nose slightly, though didn't move to greet her friend. "I'm okay," she said in a low voice.

Tori crouched down beside her. "Oh, honey. You're not okay. Where's Four?"

"He's asleep. I didn't want to wake him."

"Did you guys argue about those photographs?" Tori asked her gently, settling onto the floor next to her.

"A little," Tris admitted. "He told me about them, and I told him I knew he had them."

Tori smiled and nodded, proud of her friend. "Honesty is always the best policy."

"I saw the photographs," Tris informed her after a moment's hesitation.

"What? Why would you want to do that?"

"I needed to," Tris replied her voice low.

"Why?" Tori practically pleaded.

Tris shrugged as she lifted one ankle and rotated it slowly as if to relieve cramp or tension.

"What are you doing now?" Tori asked.

"Thinking."

"What are you thinking about?"

Again, Tris shrugged, and this time it was accompanied with another sniffle. Tori strained in the dim light to see if Tris was crying, but as far as she could tell, the blonde's eyes were dry.

Tori's eyes slowly moved over to the bottle, and Tris smiled slightly. "I haven't opened it."

"I can see that," Tori said, her smile matching her friends.

"I'm trying to be responsible," Tris offered.

"How's that working for you?"

"I want a fucking drink," Tris shot back, her eyes narrowing to Tori. "Have one with me?"

Tori was impressed Tris had yet to take a drink. It wasn't like she was an alcoholic, she just had a high tolerance for the stuff. When upset, she usually had no hesitation in reaching for the bottle to drown the memories, and it was obvious whatever those pictures portrayed had shaken Tris.

"One?" Tori smiled skeptically.

"Or two," Tris grinned back.

"We'll have one and then you can go back to bed. I'm surprised Four hasn't realized you aren't there."

"Tori, that man would probably sleep through an earthquake," Tris informed her as she finally opened the bottle in front of her.

She poured a liberal amount into the glass and grinned as she lifted it to pass to Tori.

Tori shook her head. "No, Tris. You know that's too much for me when I'm working." She swiftly moved from the floor to open a cabinet by the window and retrieved another glass. She moved back to Tris, standing in front of her.

"Do you wanna move to the couch?" she asked, and when Tris shook her head, she returned to her place on the floor beside her.

"Not too much," she warned as Tris took the glass from her and started to tip the bottle.

Tris poured her about half the measure she had, then quickly replaced the mouthful she had taken when Tori was looking for a glass.

"How's your evening been?" Tris asked conversationally.

"I've just removed a knife from Luke's thigh. He said he took a liking for it and just had to have it," Tori informed her.

Tris chuckled low at her fellow agent's sense of humor. "Yeah, and obviously the only place to store it was in his thigh."

"That's just what he said," Tori smiled.

"How is he?" Tris asked as she placed the bottle back on the floor.

"He's in a unit and will be fine," Tori told her.

"Was it bad?"

"I've seen worse."

They were both silent as they sipped on their whiskey for a moment.

"How are things going with Zeke?" Tris asked with a sly grin. Maybe talking about something else, something pleasant, would dispel the misery around her.

"Better," Tori returned, her own smile dazzling.

"Better as in, you're getting some?" Tris probed, nudging her shoulder against Tori's.

Tori shot a steely look to Tris.

"Well…" Tris encouraged with a circling motion of her hand.

"I wouldn't say I'm getting what you are thinking I'm getting," Tori revealed.

"Oh. Is he stalled on foreplay?" Tris asked her voice sympathetic.

"At my request," Tori said.

"What?! Are you crazy, girl? You should be hitting that on a regular basis," Tris exclaimed loudly.

"Hitting that!" Tori returned her eyebrows high on her forehead.

"Hitting, banging, fucking. It's all the same," Tris grinned, saucily winking at her.

Tori shook her head at her friend's choice of words, a grin on her face again. "We are taking things slowly at my request."

"Really?" Tris scrunched her nose at this news.

"Yes, Tris. I'm happy with the way things are progressing. I don't want to rush into it."

"Tori, it's been two years since you and Zeke started down this road," Tris groaned dramatically. "You go any slower, and I'll be an old woman in my grave before you can regale me with the sordid details."

Tori laughed out loud at her friend's antics. "You do remember I'm older than you, right?"

Tris shrugged before taking a large drink from her glass.

Tori followed her, wincing as the liquid hit the back of her throat.

"Zeke has been hurt in the past," she explained. "I want him to be truly sure of this relationship before we do the final deed."

"Do the final deed," Tris giggled. "And you think my choice of words is weird."

"No, I just think _you're_ weird," Tori returned, bumping her shoulder against Tris's.

"Because I love you, I'll let that one slide," Tris retorted, pointing a finger at her friend with the hand that held her almost empty glass.

"You'll let that one slide because you know it's true," Tori shot back before taking another sip.

Tris smirked to her friend. "Being normal is over-rated, boring, and sucks."

"Amen to that," Tori beamed, and the two girls clinked glasses.

They were silent for a minute before Tris broke the quiet. "He told me he loves me," she told her friend, her voice low and unsure.

Tori grinned to Tris. "Of course he loves you."

"What am I going to do?" Tris asked, as though Tori held the answers she needed.

"Love him," Tori answered simply.

"I don't want to lose him," Tris confided. "I can't go through that again. I can't lose someone else I love. My heart won't take it. _I_ wouldn't survive it."

Tris loved her family, there was no doubt about that, but she had held herself back from them emotionally, fearful of losing them as she had lost her parents. She knew her relationship with Caleb suffered because of this but she had almost hardened her heart against letting him get too close.

But now, Four had chiseled away at that impenetrable wall and squeezed through her defenses; opened her heart to potential hurt and she wasn't sure she was prepared for it.

"Tris, I wish I could tell you want you need to hear to have faith in Four, to have courage in your love for him, but I don't," Tori said with wisdom. "You need to talk to Jack about this. And I mean really talk, not brush him off with whatever you've said in the past to coast through on your sessions."

Tori's heart nearly broke when she noted the single tear roll down her friend's cheek. She had never seen Tris cry, not in all the years they'd known each other.

"You need to be honest with yourself," she finished, not realizing she was now crying as well.

They sniffled together for a moment, drinking the last of their whiskey.

"Okay," Tori mumbled as she stood, feeling the need to lighten the mood a little. "I really need to get something to eat. Do you want to join me?"

Tris stood as well, bringing the bottle with her and placing it on the table, brushing her cheeks while her back was turned.

"No. I think I'm just gonna go back to bed."

"Okay," Tori smiled before pulling Tris into a hug. When they pulled away, she asked. "You okay?"

"I am now. Thanks for distracting me, Tori," Tris assured her.

"That's what friends are for," Tori reasoned as they moved from the room together.

"Well, you're the best," Tris grinned before hugging her once more and then headed back down the corridor to the stairs, her bedroom and Four, as Tori took off in the other direction and the kitchen.

…


	31. Chapter 31

Happy Wednesday.

I can't believe its that day of the week again, this last week seems to have flown. I'm so glad the last chapter was received well and as most of your reviews pointed out, yes it was hard to write but by the reviews and pm's I received, it was worth it.

To my guest reviews, thanks for your comments.

Lots of thanks and hugs go out to my beta, cjgwilliams, your awesomeness continues to enrich my writing. :) (therapy fee's are in the mail!)

And so onto to the next chapter..

* * *

Chapter 31 

The next day Luke woke in his tub, healed, with the other agents rallying around him, regaling him with tales of missions gone awry over dinner that evening. This grew into a competition of sorts as they each compared non-existent scars of wounds they had received in the line duty but which had healed without leaving a mark thanks to the medical units.

For Tris it was a relative boring day at work, filled with looking over endless requests for contributions to various charities and noble organizations. When she returned home, she quickly changed into casual jeans and a sleeveless button-down shirt before heading through the house to stand nervously before Jack's door.

She knew this was something she needed to do, to finally allow herself to take a step down the path to heal her soul. To be the person Four saw her to be. But the thought of what she needed to do to start that journey scared her to a point where she couldn't breathe, where her body would shake with fear of her memories.

The person she was in front of everyone: strong, confident, fearless, was who she was, but she was also a scared young girl who had been tied to the leg of her parents' dining table and violated in every way possible. How could she be one without the other? Hadn't one help create the other?

She knocked quickly before she could talk herself out of it, hoping he wasn't in an appointment because she didn't think she would be strong enough to return. At his quiet encouragement to enter, she pushed open the door.

"Do you have a minute?" she asked tentatively, poking her head around the wood to see Jack sitting at his desk at the far end of the large room.

"Of course, Tris," Jack said quickly, standing and moving over to her, holding the door so she could enter fully into the room before she backed out.

"You're eager," she half laughed, her nerves strained.

"It's not very often you come see me on your own volition," he reasoned with a smile.

"Yeah, anyone would think I didn't like you or something," she teased as she flopped on the comfy couch.

She watched as he moved back to his desk, grabbing his small recording device and a legal pad, before settling into the armchair beside the couch.

"So," he started. "What do you want to talk about?"

Tris stalled, her eyes flickering around the room, the words she wanted to say clogging in her throat. She coughed, and then swallowed. "Th…that man, who… you know… he took pictures of me. Four received one in the mail."

"How does that make you feel?" Jack asked the question she knew he would.

"It makes me feel angry," she spat out.

"Why? Because he took pictures?"

"No…well, yeah, that's just sick, and disturbing, and … there's a lot of things I'd like to say about that, but I'm angry because Four saw it. Because now he knows the extent of what I went

through."

Jack looked at her intently. "You still haven't told him?"

"No," she returned sharply. "But a picture tells a thousand words, Jack, and that picture screams violence and hurt and…"

"You can say it, Tris," he encouraged.

She inhaled deeply. "And rape," she hissed out on her exhale.

She leaned forward to pour herself a glass of water from the water carafe on the occasional table. She drank down the full glass, before wiping her mouth and replacing the glass. A part of her had hoped she would feel better, lighter, if she admitted out loud what had been at the core of her imprisonment at her own home, but she didn't. The word still struck terror to her soul, made her feel dirty and used, and she wanted nothing more than to take back that word. It wasn't soul cleansing and it didn't magically make everything better.

All the while Jack's eyes were on her, examining her, doing that silence thing most therapist seemed to do. She hated that, the way they didn't speak, waiting for her to say something to fill the silence, something that could reveal too much. Well, she wasn't going fall for that. Not this time.

"And that makes you angry; because he knows?" Jack asked eventually.

"No, it makes me angry because now he can see it. He can close his eyes and summon that picture. Before it was just speculation about what really happened, now he has a visual."

"And that hurts you?"

"Yes," she said emotionally. "I don't want him to see it, to live with it."

"But he will," Jack rationalized, his voice calm, soothing. "Live with it, I mean, because you live with it."

"Four told me he loves me."

Jack grinned at her distraught expression. "Well, it's obvious to anyone with eyes, Tris."

"I couldn't say it back. The words kinda caught in my throat and I could get them out."

"Because you're scared," he acknowledged, his eyes bright at what she was telling him, that she finally seemed to be opening up to him.

"Because I'm scared shitless that something will happen to him if I love him. I'm scared that man will get to him and take him from me. I won't let that happen. I can't let that happen. I would go through it all again, all the hurt, and the pain, and the degradation if it would keep him safe. To keep them all safe."

"You won't have to do that, Tris," Jack reassured, worried she had these thoughts. Concerned she thought she would need to go through her experiences again to keep her family safe.

"You have to let go of your fear of loving someone, Tris."

Tris stood from the couch and Jack watched as she began her pacing, something that was typical for her when faced with questions she struggled with, questions she didn't really want to answer.

"Don't you think I want to?" Her voice cracked with frustrations. "I can't. Its there all the time."

"Tris, until you heal the wounds of your past, you are going to bleed. You can bandage the bleeding with food, with alcohol, with drugs, with work, with cigarettes, with sex. But eventually, it will all ooze through and stain your life. You must find the strength to open the wounds, stick your hands inside, pull out the core of the pain that is holding you in your past, the memories, and make peace with them."

"Make peace?" Tris' voice was skeptical.

"Yes."

"It's too painful," Tris confided. "It hurts beyond anything. I don't want to talk about it, make peace with it, because then the memories are all too real and then I have to live with it all over again."

Silence filled the room again and Tris fidgeted, her eyes flicking to a point over Jake's shoulder, not wanting to look him in the eye. She knew if she did she would be pressed to say more, but again, she was stubborn.

"Have you told Four you love him?" Jack asked, intrigued.

She shook her head, embarrassed. It irritated her that everybody could see her love for Four, even the man himself, yet she still stumbled over verbally expressing the depth of her feelings to him. She was angry at herself for this inability, embarrassed that saying those three small words struck fear in her.

"Why not?"

She shrugged, her eyes drifting again, before she swallowed some of her anxiety. Her friends' voices seemed to fill her head, pressing on her the need to talk through what she was feeling. "I'm afraid. I'm so afraid that if I say it out loud, it's going to go away."

Jake watched her intently again and she shifted again back to the the couch, the silence filling the room until she couldn't take it anymore.

"I don't want this," she whispered. "I don't want to feel panic when Four tells me he loves me. I don't want the anxiety that runs through me when I think about telling him I love him. I want …"

"What do you want, Tris?"

"I want to be free of it all. I want it over. I want to be at peace."

…

Tris wandered through the house, her mind whirling with the session she'd just finished with Jack. How was she supposed to make peace with what had happened?

She glanced up when she sensed a person heading toward and groaned inwardly when she saw her uncle walking purposely down the hallway.

"Tris," Uncle Mason's voice seemed to boom in the enclosed space. "I've been looking for you."

"I've just finished a session with Jack, Uncle Mason," she said wearily. "I'm really not in the mood for anything right now."

"You talked to Jack?" Mason asked, surprised she had done so willingly.

"Yes. I have some things I'm working through."

Mason smiled genuinely at his niece. "Well, I'm proud of you, Tris," he beamed.

Tris could only offer him a weak smile in acceptance.

"Now, I have a mission for you."

"Can't," she shot back quickly, turning and heading back down the hallway. "Caleb is out with Zeke

because Four got called into work. Homicide case."

"I know," Mason told her. "You'll have to take Peter."

Tris looked from her uncle in shock. "No way, absolutely not," she said imperatively, shaking her head.

Mason sighed. "Tris, when you broke things off with Peter, you assured me you could maintain a professional working relationship with him."

Tris sighed as well, knowing she had indeed said that. But the thought of going out on a mission with Peter did not sit easy with her. "We haven't worked together in a long time," she reasoned.

"But you have worked a mission together in the past and I know the two of you will fall easily back into rhythm."

"But…"

"Beatrice, I will not argue with you. The Dauntless have a mission, you are a member of The Dauntless and will do as I say." Mason handed her a manila envelope. "The details are in there. Peter will meet you in the vestibule in 20 minutes." He immediately turned his back on her, moving off in the direction he came from.

Tris seethed all the way to the weapons room to collect her gun. Her anger continued as she moved through the house toward her room to change into darker clothes. She sat on the bed to review the material her uncle had given her, quickly shooting off a text to Four to tell him she was going out on a mission.

The ringing of her cell was expected but still made her jump.

"Hey Bear," she smiled into the device. He was going to blow, she knew it.

"What do you mean you're going out on a mission with Peter?" Four's voice bellowed down the phone.

"What didn't you understand?" She shot back at him.

"Caleb's your partner." The annoyance in his voice all too clear and Tris almost smiled.

"I know, but this needs to be done and Caleb is out with Zeke because you're at work," she explained, hating she needed to tell him he was the reason she would be out with Peter.

"What about Uriah?" Four asked.

"I've never worked with Uriah. The Dauntless only puts out tested partners, you know this."

"When did you partner with Peter?" he probed, his voice hard. This was one more thing she'd neglected to mention.

"We sometimes worked missions together when we were together," she admitted, timidly.

She heard Four inhale deeply, before exhaling slowly. "I don't like this, Tris," he finally said.

"Don't you trust me?" she asked, her irritation at his tone spiked. She closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down. She needed to acknowledge his concerns for her and understand where

they were coming from. She didn't like the situation either.

"I trust you completely," Four barked into the phone. "I don't trust Peter and I certainly don't trust the fucker who's out to get you."

"I'm a big girl, Four, I can look after myself." She couldn't stop the words as they fell and she chewed on her lip, not wanting to argue with him again.

"You shouldn't have to look after yourself. You shouldn't have to be looking over your shoulder all the time. It takes your focus from the mission at hand."

"And you being with me wouldn't change that, Four." She took a deep breath and softened her voice. She reminded herself that this wasn't her ideal plan either and she'd probably lose it too if the shoe were on the other foot.. "I have to go. I just wanted you to know where I was if you were home before me."

"And I appreciate that. Tris, please be careful."

"I will be," she whispered.

"I love you," he said quietly and Tris swallowed nervously. "You don't have to say anything," he continued, and she could almost hear the smile in his voice. "I don't say it for it to be returned. I say it because I love you and I want you to know."

Tris opened her mouth to say something, anything, but the words got stuck.

"I'll see you when we're home," he finished.

"Bye," she croaked out.

She pushed her phone into her jeans pocket, her face stark with the maddening feeling that she just couldn't tell him how she felt. She snatched the paperwork from the bed and stalked off to meet with Peter.

She found him waiting by the main door, chatting easily with Gavin.

"About time," he grinned, standing while she descended the marble staircase.

She didn't answer him, just glared as she finished strapping her harness in place before shrugging her blazer over the top.

"Hey," he griped. "I'm not exactly thrilled about this arrangement either."

Tris glared at him, the smirk on his face telling her he was obviously lying.

"Do you know how beautiful your eyes are when you're angry?" he continued, following her out of the mansion.

She turned on him quickly, her hand at his chest stopping his forward motion.

"Just get it all out now, Peter. Whatever sexual innuendos, comments, and leering you have planned because I will not have you mess up this mission because you haven't got your mind in the moment."

"God, I could kiss you right now," he grinned.

She swiftly kicked him between his legs, his sharp expel of breath extremely satisfactory, and she turned back, stalking around the SUV to the driver's seat.

"I thought you said get it all out now," he wheezed.

"I changed my mind," she shot over her shoulder. "Get in the car."

Peter bit back what he wanted to say and gingerly climbed into the passenger seat.

…

Four paced in the foyer, his nerves on edge at the length of time Tris had been out on this mission with Peter. He didn't like it. Not one little bit. He couldn't comprehend how Mason would put his own niece at risk like this, both with Peter and with the maniac intent on hurting her.

He understood, to a degree, Tris' need to keep her life unchanged, but what he couldn't wrap his head around was her constant insistence that she could take care of herself. He'd seen her work, he knew, fundamentally, this was true. She was a force to anyone who came against her. He had faith in her ability to focus on the job at hand and not let her attention wander. He knew she would be able to separate what was happening personally and concentrate on her task.. His concern was if she was too intense, too focused, she would miss something happening around her. Something that her Divergent abilities wouldn't pick up on because she was channeling all her energy on the mission.

If she was with people she could rely on, who she had faith in, she wouldn't need to be so focused.

Could she rely on Peter like she could him and Caleb? Like she was able to with Zeke and Uriah? No, Four did not like this at all.

He cast his gaze to Gavin, the ever present sentinel to the entrance to the large house. The stout man was standing almost to attention, not making eye contact with Four at all. Four watched as he turned his head slightly, as though listening to something, and he moved, keying in a code on the wall panel and opening the door.

When he heard Tris' voice outside, Four moved quickly out of the door. She was climbing the marble stairs, a streak of dirt on her cheek, with Peter leaning heavily against her side.

"What happened?" Four demanded, his jaw clenching at the sight of Peter's arm wrapped tightly around her shoulder. She had one hand holding on to his by her left shoulder, her other arm was around his waist, supporting him.

"He took a tumble," Tris said with a grimace.

"Off the El's tracks," Peter added, his voice straining with obvious pain.

Four swallowed his hate for this man and moved to replace Tris as his walking aid.

"Shall I call for Tori?" Gavin inquired, taking a position on the other side of Peter and helping Four bring Peter inside.

"It would probably be quicker if we just take him to her," Tris answered.

"I don't need Tori," Peter insisted. "It's just a sprain."

"Let's let the doc make that decision, shall we," Tris said, holding the door wide as the three men entered.

Gavin watched as she closed the door and keyed in a code on the pad to make it secure. "I'll take him down to the medical center," he offered, almost knowing that's what she wanted him to do.

"Thanks, Gavin," Tris smiled to him as Four let Peter go, waiting a minute to ensure the burly man had the weight of the injured Peter.

When they'd moved off down the hallway, Four turned to Tris, his hand reaching out and grazing aside her dirtied cheek. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she grinned. "Not even a scratch."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Four half-smiled, noting the dirt, scuffed skin, and small pinpricks of blood along the outside of her palm. "Did you get the target?"

"Yep," she smiled.

"Good. Let's go get you into a hot bath," he turned them, and headed up the stairs, needing to get into private before he said something he'd regret.

"Is that you're way of saying you want to get me naked, Detective," Tris purred saucily as she followed behind him.

"I always want to get you naked," he smirked back at her.

Once in their room, he moved to the bathroom, filling the large tub with hot water as she stripped out of her grimy clothes. He balked when he saw the knife attached to her right ankle.

"Shit, Tris. You took a knife to what obviously was a gun fight," he commented.

"Yeah," she returned with a grin. "I love a challenge."

He shook his head warily, but smiled when she placed the gun from her harness by the sink. "Of course, having back helps as well," she smirked. Tris sighed in pleasure as she slid into the warm water and bubbles, closing her eyes as she rested her head against the edge of the tub. After a couple of minutes, she opened one eye. Four was perched on the tiled dais that encased the bath.

"Okay," she breathed out. "Let me have it." She knew he was pissed and that he was trying to hold it in.

"I can't believe you agreed to go out with him."

"It was a mission, not a date."

"You know what I mean. Not two days ago he beat the crap out of you."

"We beat the crap out of each other," she returned.

"I just wish you'd slow down, take minute to think on what's happening."

"You don't think I know what's happening?" Her eyes swung to his, wide in shock.

"No, that's not what I mean."

"Four, if you really expect me to just sit around and do nothing, to hide in this room, then you don't know me at all."

"I don't expect you to hide in this room, and I know you're not gonna sit around and do nothing. But it doesn't mean I have to like it when you are sent out on missions, last minute I might add, with someone who won't necessarily look out for you. Someone who also happens to have a love/hate attitude toward you. You can't _expect_ me to be happy with that." Four's voice had steadily risen as he spoke.

Tris sank a little further into the water."This is my job, Four. Just like it's yours, and being a cop is yours. I don't necessarily like you working out on the streets with Jason. I know nothing about him and he can't watch your back like a member of The Dauntless can, but do I try and stop you from working, from being out there unprotected."

"I don't have someone out to torture me out there," he shouted back to her, unable to keep his

composure any longer. _Why couldn't she understand his fear, his frustration at this situation_.

"Stop yelling at me," she shot back, a hand reaching up to rub at her temple.

Four inhaled deeply, his eyes intent on Tris. He counted to ten silently and felt himself settle a little. "I'm sorry," he said, calmer, as he squatted down beside her. "I just don't want anything to happen to you. You understand that, right?"

Tris reached her hand out to gently caress his jaw. "I understand. I don't want anything to happen to me either, or you. But this is my life, it's what I do, and for now, I have to continue doing it."

Four leaned into her touch as she continued. "I can't just sit around because that gives me too much time to think, and thinking leads to places I don't always want to go. I need to keep active, physically and mentally, so when we do find him, I'll be ready."

Four reached forward to tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "I love you," he said, his eyes hard on hers, trying to convey with them what he felt in his heart.

Tris felt tears prick at her eyes at his intense gaze and her mouth opened. The silence was deafening and she trembled, almost angry at herself, as she wrapped both her arms around his shoulder, drawing him to her and her wet body.

Four tightened his arms around as she shook slightly against him. "I love you," he whispered again against her ear, "that's never gonna change whether you can say it back or not."

…

A few days later, Mason Prior requested a meeting with Zeke after dinner, and Zeke headed to his office anxiously, wondering what his boss had in mind and why he was called into his private domain. He soon got his answer. Zeke couldn't believe what Mason was telling him, and he was sure he had an idiotic look on his face as he reached out his hand and took the folder from his boss.

Mason smiled slightly to the man in front of him. "You understand you will only have one shot at this?" he asked.

Zeke nodded mutely.

"Four will be with you, naturally, but if you want another team as well, that can be arranged. You'll have point on this mission, of course," Mason said as he leaned back in his chair.

"I don't want Uriah involved," Zeke said, eyeing his boss cautiously.

"Why not?" Mason queried. "He's Divergent. He could be an asset."

Zeke's jaw clenched as he chose his words. "Uriah is all the family I have left. I can't take the chance something could happen to him, Divergent or not."

Mason eyed the man before him, searching for something in his face. For a moment he saw a young man burdened with the responsibility of family at a young age, something he saw in too many of his agents. "Okay," Mason agreed. "Whatever you want, Zeke."

"How?" Zeke asked. "Why now?"

Mason understood what Zeke was asking. "We've been tracking him for a while now, and he has made a few mistakes. It has to be now, Zeke."

Zeke nodded again, finally looking up. "Thanks."

Mason smiled as he watched as Zeke strode purposely from the room.

Zeke walked with determination through the great house, the file folder gripped tightly in his hand with one destination on his mind. He took the stairs two at a time as he bounded up and then headed down the corridor, reaching the door at the end in no time. He rapped sharply on the oak door and waited impatiently for it to be opened.

"Zeke!" Tris said with surprise when she opened to door to him. She noticed his agitated look immediately, and her eyebrows furrowed with concern. "Is everything okay?"

"Is Four here?" he asked instead of answering her question.

"Sure," she smiled and opened the door wider for him.

It was at this point he noticed Tris was dressed in a pair of gray sweat shorts and a worn t-shirt bearing the words 'Beer Pong Champion' across her breasts. He cautiously stepped over the threshold of the room, suddenly aware he had never been inside Tris' room before.

Four was relaxing on a large couch in what could be considered the sitting area of the room; a couch and two armchairs placed invitingly around a large marble fireplace which was ready to light at any given moment.

"How come your room is three times the size of mine?" Zeke asked distractedly.

Tris raised a delicate eyebrow to him. "You expect me to answer that?" she smirked to him as she settled on the arm of the couch beside Four.

Zeke grinned back. Of course, she would have a huge room. This was more her and Caleb's house than anyone's, the building having been in their family for generations. "I guess not."

"Is everything okay?" Four asked, his arm wrapping around Tris' waist as he leaned against the couch arm.

Zeke shifted his weight between his feet before deciding to settle into one of the chairs.

"Remember when I told you about Vincent D'Angelo?" Zeke asked quietly.

Four thought for a moment before recalling Zeke's tale which had brought him to Dauntless: the death of his parents at the hands of the notorious crime boss D'Angelo in Las Vegas.

"I remember," Four replied, his expression unreadable.

"He's here," Zeke said and leaned forward to hand the folder with the details of D'Angelo's itinerary.

"I have this one shot, and that's it," Zeke continued.

Four looked to Tris, who was nibbling on her lip in thought, before turning back to Zeke, questioningly.

"I need my partner on this," Zeke explained, looking hopefully to Four.

"Of course. You don't need to ask," Four returned quickly.

Tris chewed her lip harder. Having Four and Zeke go out against the boss of one of the biggest crime syndicates in Las Vegas was something she wasn't too pleased about, but she would never stand in the way of a fellow agent taking down the one who killed his family. She looked expectantly at Zeke, almost bouncing out of her perch on the couch.

"Tris, would you and Caleb like to help on this?

"What?!" Four piped up before stating, "No way."

"Four," Tris warned.

"But, babe, remember the bad guy who is out there intent on killing you," Four reasoned, not wanting to have the same argument they'd had earlier in the week.

Tris patted him soothingly on the shoulder. "Don't worry, honey. We'll take care of him after this."

She turned to Zeke. "Yes, Zeke. We would love to be on your team and help take this bastard down."

"It will have to be tonight," Zeke explained. "Do you think we can coordinate something in time?"

"Of course we can," Tris returned, standing from her seat on the arm of the couch and crossing the room as she spoke, heading for the closet. "Caleb is in the gym, I think." She popped her head back out through the wide double doors that led to the closet. "Hey, we could try some of Matthew's new gadgets."

"Good idea." Zeke grinned, happy to have her onboard despite the bitching he would undoubtedly receive from Four and Caleb when it was just the three of them.

Zeke turned to Four, the smile still on his face, which fell the instant he caught his partner's expression.

"She's the best," Zeke said, by way of explanation for wanting Tris and Caleb with him during this mission.

"I thought we had agreed it was best Tris didn't go on any more missions for the time being," Four hissed back, trying to keep his voice low so Tris couldn't hear him. He was still pissed Mason had sent her out with Peter only a day after receiving those disturbing pictures of her. How her uncle could so disregard her safety was beyond him. If he had his way, she would be grounded until whoever was out there, stalking her, threatening them both, was taken out of the picture all together. In fact, if he could have it his way, she would be out the country completely.

"Yeah, and I think I told you trying to protect her by pushing her out was not the wisest decision," Zeke shot back, his eyes darting to the closet.

"I can hear you," Tris's voice filtered through from the closet.

"I'll meet you down in Matthew's lab," Zeke said quickly, turning to leave the room, he paused by the door. "Do you want me to talk to Caleb?"

Tris returned to the room, now wearing a dark pair of skintight jeans and pulling a black t-shirt over her head. "No, it's okay. We'll let him know what's happening."

Zeke nodded once before pulling open the door, heading back to his own room so he could change into more suitable mission clothes.

Tris moved closer to Four, who was still in his position on the couch. She settled into his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs and her hands resting lightly on his shoulders.

"Four," she started, her expression serious as she looked him straight in the eye, "I'm only gonna say this once, so listen carefully. I love that you are all protective of me, maybe more than I should be, but you can't stop me from doing my job. I'm an agent, a fucking good agent, at that, and to be able to do my job, there is always gonna be an element of danger. Now you may think that element has increased recently with that murder and those sick photos, but Four, that guy has been out there all this time. He could have re-emerged at any time during the past eight years. Why he has chosen to do so now is beyond me, but that threat has always been there, and I have lived with it and will continue to live with it until he is dead. I won't alter my life because of him. He's already taken so much from me. I won't allow him to dictate how I live my life."

He sighed and admitted to himself that she had a point. Four's hand, which had settled against her hip, rose to cup her cheek. "You are incredible, ya know that, right?"

Tris gave a sly smile and a shrug of one shoulder as if to say 'of course I know that.'

"I just don't want anything to happen to you," Four returned sincerely, his fingers brushing against her cheek.

"I'm not the same person I was eight years ago," she replied, moving to rest her head against his shoulder, their bodies pressing together intimately. "I'm stronger than I was back then, he would never be able to… to… use me like he did."

Four swallowed hard. This was the closest she had been to actually telling him something of what happened. He knew, of course, but hearing her say it, hearing the details from her, was important to him. More than he probably realized.

"I know this goes beyond your natural instincts," she continued, "but you have to trust I can take care of myself."

"I trust you, Tris, completely. It's the fucker out there I don't trust."

"Forget about him," Tris whispered, sitting back up to face him again.

"I can't," Four returned his voice just as low as hers. "I love you."

Tris gave him a sexy smile as she leaned closer, bringing her lips to his and caressing his full lips with her own. She was getting used to hearing him say it and her anxiety level seemed stable now whenever he did. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders again, bringing their bodies closer as she deepened their kiss, demanding entrance into his mouth, which he gave instantly. She then let him lead the kiss as he brushed his tongue against hers, almost seductively, teasing her.

Tris reluctantly pulled away from him, her heart beating triple time, and her lungs demanding oxygen. She rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed, before she opened them slowly to gaze straight into his warm brown orbs.

"We'd better stop now," she breathed out.

"Before we can't stop," Four agreed.

Tris nodded twice before returning her lips to his, the impulse to do so too strong to ignore.

Four chuckled a little under the pressure of her velvet lips, and he gripped her waist, lifting her from his lap so she was standing, the pout on her face making him smile.

"Spoil sport," she grumbled.

"Tease," he bantered good-heartedly. "We have work to do."

Tris grinned at that. "Yes, we do." She looked at his casual outfit of sweat bottoms and a T-shirt.

"You'd better change," she instructed.

He flashed her his lopsided grin as he bypassed her and crossed the room to enter into the closet.

Tris moved to a dresser and reached for a hairbrush in one of the top drawers.

"Can you find my black beanie, Bear?" she called to him as she raked the brush through her blond hair. She chose to ignore his mumbled response about not being able to find anything in the vast room she called a closet.

Twenty minutes later, and they entered into the large gym where Four started his training. He had returned to this room multiple times since then to use the incredible equipment The Dauntless housed to keep their agents and supporting staff in shape.

Caleb was currently on a treadmill, running at a steady pace, his eyes fixed on the flatscreen TV that was mounted on the wall in front of the bank of exercise machines.

Tris moved over to him, Four trailing behind.

When she stepped in front of Caleb's machine, her brother looked slightly bewildered to see her, his eyes taking in her attire, and he slowed the machine down.

"Are we working?" he asked between taking haggard breaths.

Tris nodded and leaned over, tweaking with the machine's control pad, and it began to wind down, slowing Caleb more until he came to a stop. Caleb stepped from the machine and finally noticed Four, his outfit almost matching Tris, the dark colors not lost on Caleb.

"Are we double-teaming?" he asked, then laughed at his double entendre before stopping at Tris' raised eyebrow. "Not that that would ever happen. You're my sister, for fuck's sake, and Four," he turned to look at the taller man, the passive look on his face speaking volumes. "I don't think Four shares well."

"C'mon, KK," Tris smiled grabbing his arm and dragging him from toward the door. "You need to change and meet us in Matthew's lab. Zeke needs our help."

"Zeke?" Caleb looked expectantly at Four.

"D'Angelo is in Chicago tonight," was all she said, knowing Caleb would understand. Caleb paused, looking at Tris and then back at Four, a silent question in his eyes.

"Don't even try," Four answered, knowing instantly Caleb was querying about Tris's presence during Zeke's mission.

With that, Caleb knew Four had tried to keep his sister out of this with no luck.

"Okay, I'll meet you guys in Matthew's lab," and he sprinted from the room.

Four looked to Tris and raised his eyebrow. "Double team?'

"Not tonight, Bear," she grinned back to him, patting his cheek affectionately.

"Not ever," Four returned swiftly. "Caleb's right. I'm an only child, and I don't share well." He grabbed her hand, entwining his fingers with hers as they exited the room.

…

They all met up in Matthew's lab and workspace, and he outfitted the team with ear pieces and wireless mic's which were incorporated into leather wrist straps.

"They are voice activated," Matthew was saying as he fastened the last strap around Tris' delicate wrist. "And each holds a GPS device so we can monitor all your movements from here," and he indicated to a large iMac on his desk.

"You will be in communication with each other and me here at all times. This way, you don't have to carry cell phones with you or call for back up or cleanup. You just speak into the mic."

He lifted Tris's wrist to his mouth and whispered. "Does Four know about your love of peanut butter, chocolate spread, and banana sandwiches?"

"I do now," Four grinned from across the room, a digit fingering the ear piece that was snug in his ear.

"These are awesome," Tris grinned.

"What's the chance of someone else picking up on the frequency?" Caleb asked.

"Zilch," Matthew returned promptly. "I've calibrated a frequency above the normal. Not even dogs will hear this."

"Impressive," Four said with a nod. "Do you think you could let the C.P.D. have some of this equipment?"

"Not likely," Matthew laughed. "My work is for The Dauntless only."

Four acknowledged his response with another tilt of his head.

Matthew stood back from Tris and looked at the four agents arranged in a semi-circle around him with a goofy smile.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" he said. "Get out there and kick some ass."

…

The group stood in the garage waiting as a non-descript black car rolled to a stop in front of them.

"I'll drive," Caleb volunteered and headed for the driver's door before someone got there before him.

Four opened the front passenger door, hoping Zeke would understand his legs were a lot longer than his partner's, and he needed the extra space. Before Tris could open the rear door, Zeke stopped her, pulling her from the car slightly. "I haven't told Uriah," he said quickly.

"It's a bit late now," Tris returned with a small smile.

"No, I didn't tell him who we were going up against. I don't want him involved in this."

"Okay," Tris said, not sure what he was trying to say. "But you know he'll be majorly pissed when he finds out. This is his revenge just as much as yours."

"If anything happens to me…"

"No, Zeke, don't even think like that," Tris stopped him, holding her hand up.

"But if…"

"I'm not listening," Tris shot back stubbornly; turning and striding purposely back to the car.

Zeke stopped her again as she opened the open, his hand on her arm. "There's a letter in the bottom drawer of my dresser. Make sure he gets it."

Tris looked into his eyes and saw fear, something she never saw in him. She wasn't sure it was fear about what was about to happen or fear he wasn't going to come back from it.

She nodded, not trusting her voice in that moment.

"Thanks," he smiled, then opened to door for her, waiting for her to slide in before following her.

"Let's roll," he said to Caleb, and they moved off.

…

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A/N: Part of Jack's speech to Tris are not my own words, so I can't take credit for them.


	32. Chapter 32

Happy Wednesday!

Firstly, if there is anything wrong with the format of this chapter I apologize. For some reason I couldn't upload this chapter as easily as I have done in the past. As some of you may know, I'm not the most technically minded so I'm not sure why I couldn't go the usual route with this weeks update. Instead I had to copy/paste.

Secondly, I didn't realize how short this chapter was until it was too late to do anything about it so, again, I apologize. I would say I'd make it by offering an extra long chapter next, but it's already written...

Now, back to your regular update ramblings...

Thanks to new readers for the favorites and adding The Dauntless to your alerts.

Guest reviewers: Thanks, as always, for your reviews.

To aglover810 (who I can't reply to via pm): I love how you can't decided about Peter :) Thanks for your review!

To my awesome beta, cjgwilliams, thanks for all the precious time you send looking over my work. It's appreciated so much!

And so, on to the next chapter. Enjoy...

* * *

Chapter 32.

The nondescript black car drove to the Port of Chicago, where Mason's informant had disclosed Vincent D'Angelo would be that evening, making a deal with a local drug cartel.

Tris watched Zeke's right leg twitch with nervous energy as the car traveled down the highway. Eventually, she reached over and placed her hand on his knee, stilling his movement gently. Zeke looked at her hand and then up to meet her gaze.

"You're driving me crazy," she said simply. "Quit it."

Zeke flashed her a weak smile. He loved how blunt she was, and how she wasn't one to offer false condolences when they were out on a mission. That wasn't who Tris Prior was. Tris knew how emotional he would feel at facing his parents' murderer and that he was trying to focus on what was about to go down. She didn't offer him words of comfort or coddle him; she was straight to the point, and he appreciated that. His hand moved to cover hers, and he squeezed her fingers affectionately, unsure what to say to her. They drove in silence until they approached the large iron gates, which signaled they were about to enter one of the large shipyards at the Iroquois Landing Terminus.

"He's supposed to be over in the northwest corner," Zeke informed his fellow agents. Caleb nodded once in acknowledgment and maneuvered the car behind one of the large shipping containers, hiding the vehicle from view.

They climbed from the car and grouped together, each looking at the others before Zeke said, "Guys, I appreciate you all being here. There isn't another group of people I would want with me on this."

Four, Tris, and Caleb all mumbled their dismissals at his sentimental words.

"But I have to stress," Zeke continued, meeting them each with a steely gaze before continuing. "This kill is mine."

"Sure thing, boss," Tris grinned, checking the magazine in her PPK and the extra magazine which was safely tucked into her jeans back pocket. Four and Caleb did the same while Zeke pulled two Berettas out of a double holster strapped across his torso.

With one gun, he checked the magazine like his colleagues, but with the other, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a single bullet. This was his bullet; the bullet he made during his training for The Dauntless, the bullet he would use to take the life of his parents' killer. He pressed it into an empty magazine and slid the magazine into the empty Beretta before tucking it back into the holster under his arm.

Four, Tris, and Caleb watched him solemnly, knowing that this was a poignant moment for Zeke and understanding the emotions that must be coursing through him right now.

Four thought back to the bullet he had made with Zeke's expert tutelage and wondered briefly who he would use his bullet on. He liked to think it would take down the bastard who haunted Tris' dreams.

Tris knew who her bullet was headed for without question. She would strike down her parents' killer, she had no doubt about that. It was just a matter of waiting, and while she wasn't normally a patient girl, she could wait for this to be done right.

Caleb shifted his eyes around the area, his own need for vengeance bubbling beneath the surface, but as always, he refused to give voice to his internal thoughts. He wanted retribution, that was a fact, but whenever his thoughts drifted to why he craved that vengeance, images of an abused Tris would fill his mind and they were something he would gladly never see again. He just knew that between himself and his sister, and now this new man in her life, they would see him dead. "Okay, guys. Let's get this thing moving. You ready, Zeke?"

Zeke nodded his head firmly with determination.

Caleb lifted his wrist almost to his lips and whispered. "Are you there, Matthew?"

"Yep, I'm here, and I have your coordinates locked into a GPS system should you need assistance," Matthew's cool tones floated into the four agents' ears.

"Oh, ye of little faith," Tris grinned again. "Requiring back up is something I don't do."

"Apart from last time when we were cornered in that alley," Four offered with a cheeky half smile.

"Or that time you took a bullet in your thigh and needed immediate extraction," Zeke added.

"How about the time you and Peter had to hole up in that dingy..." Caleb stopped at Tris's quick jab to his ribs. Her eyes narrowed, and he could almost hear her cursing him and probably his manhood, too.

Four flicked his gaze between Caleb and Tris, knowing there was more to this story and not really sure if he wanted to hear it.

"Can you two have this conversation at home?" Zeke asked, anxious to start and finish this mission.

"Sure we can, Zeke," Four returned, his eyes on Tris.

"Yeah, and Caleb can spring for dinner at Trattoria's tomorrow night," Tris added, fulfilling her and Caleb's tradition of making plans for after a mission. It was a type of positive thinking; if they had plans, then nothing would go wrong.

"Deal," Caleb grinned to her.

The group moved off together, heading out to meet a killer. They soon saw a group of men, all standing in a cluster and obviously well-armed. Zeke took control of the situation immediately, sending Caleb and Tris down one corridor of large shipping containers, while he and Four headed in the opposite direction, leading the team around the perimeter, circling D'Angelo and his men. The security detail for the head of the drug cartel was equally as attentive to the area around them.

They moved in perfect coordination, the new technology from Matthew proving most useful and it wasn't long before Zeke signaled for them to move in after they had effectively surrounded D'Angelo and the others without notice. Caleb and Tris were standing at the southeast end of the clearing while Zeke and Four were on the northwest end. They watched as D'Angelo and his men moved into a space between several shipping containers, and Zeke signaled for action.

D'Angelo's lackeys were stunned when the four figures erupted into the clearing, and they drew their guns instinctively. However, four of the men fell almost instantly as each of the agents fired a shot, their bullets hitting their targets perfectly before they turned their guns on the remaining ten men left. They slowly backed into a circle, their weapons raised and prepared for another attack from any angle as the four agents slunk back into the shadows.

The ten members of the drug cartel D'Angelo had arranged to meet drew their own weapons as well, and formed their own circle, unsure who their new assailants were but ready to fight whoever was attempting to stop the deal their boss had struck. Their leader, a surprisingly short Hispanic man who was in his mid-twenties turned to D'Angelo, his eyes flashing accusingly as he trained his gun on the taller man.

D'Angelo himself looked bewildered, and he pulled his own gun on the drug leader, thinking the man was double-crossing him.

"These ain't my people," the cartel leader spat out, his firearm pointing steadily at the mob boss.

"Well, since they are killing my men, they definitely aren't mine," D'Angelo returned coolly. A second or two passed before they both turned their weapons on whoever was shooting at them, who seemed to have regathered and were advancing as a team on the group of men standing at the ready in the middle of the clearing

The cartel leader noticed these new people were paying more attention to D'Angelo's men than his own, so he signaled to his gang and they slunk back into the night, recognizing this was not their fight. He remained intrigued however by the four figures taking on the might of the mob boss, one of them most obviously a woman, so he and his men stayed concealed in the darkness, watching.

Zeke made his way through the men, Four, Caleb, and Tris clearing a path for him using whatever skills they could, fighting hand to hand mostly, and then he was standing in front of the person who had taken his parents' lives. Zeke studied the killer for a moment. Vincent D'Angelo was of average height with his black hair slicked back. He was a little overweight, but he clearly used that to his advantage to intimidate people. Zeke's upper lip curled up at the sight of the man, and using his loaded gun, he smacked the hand holding D'Angelo's weapon, sending the pistol clattering to the concrete. Zeke shoved the loaded gun back in its holster and pulled out the one loaded with the signal bullet. He leveled it at his opponent as the sounds of gunfire faded from his ears, all his thoughts on the man before him.

His face was like stone as Zeke looked D'Angelo in the eye.

"Phil and Hana Pedrad," Zeke said softly.

"What?" D'Angelo asked, clearly confused and surprised.

"This is for their lives, which you stole," Zeke ground out, raising his gun to the mob boss' forehead, staring at him for another moment before pulling the trigger, the sound of the gun firing filling his senses.

A single shot to the middle of his forehead was all it took for the crime boss to fall. As Zeke stood over the dead body of his parents' killer, he felt nothing. No elation that the man was dead, no feeling of closure for himself or his brother, just a sense of disgust at the pain and misery this man had put countless people and families through.

The sound of additional gunfire jolted him from his thoughts and he quickly switched guns and spun on his heel, ready to fight with his friends; his family. Now that the target was down, the group reassembled, and the command seemed to revert back to Tris, who indicated her instructions to the guys in a series of hand movements they followed without hesitation.

She sent Caleb and Zeke down one side of the bulk of steel in front of them while she and Four progressed down the other, effectively splitting the usual teams as they made their way back to the car in an escape from the gunfire, which seemed to be coming out of the darkness after they had eliminated some of D'Angelo's men. She loved the ease with which she and Four worked together. While it was effortless with Caleb, as they had been partners since joining Dauntless and been partners in crime in their youth, the synergy she had with Four was something else. It was like they were almost communicating telepathically, knowing instinctively where the other was and using that to their advantage as they fled.

Tris and Four slammed on their brakes when they found themselves in the middle of a fight, seemingly coming out of nowhere. Six men approached from the darkness, and the two agents were easily surrounded by the group of D'Angelo's men. They were obviously trying to fight their way out of the situation and some still seemed to feel loyalty to their now-dead boss, hoping to extract some kind of revenge on two of the four agents responsible for the man's premature death.

Caleb and Zeke came across them in the middle of the fight, and they watched with fascination as the two agents dispatched their foes effortlessly, moving in tandem with one another. The two moved as one as they fought their opponents. Tris twisted herself around Four as he moved with ease into a different stance to aid her as she planted her foot high on his thigh, springing off him to slam her elbow into the face of an enemy who was approaching them. As soon as Tris was airborne, Four turned and smashed his fist into the face of a beefy man who seemed to think that Four's distraction was the opportune time to attempt to take him down.

Caleb was again reminded that it was only a matter of time before his partner was taken from him.

So mesmerized were Caleb and Zeke they didn't realize Four and Tris were heading in their direction at a full run until Tris shouted to them as she sped past, "You wanna die?"

Tris didn't realize the moment the group separated again, she just knew one minute the four of them were together, then the next, she and Caleb were again on one side of the containers, and Four and Zeke somewhere else as they moved down the corridor as quickly as possible in their attempt to make it back to the car unscathed.

She turned at the last minute as a bullet whizzed past her, taking a chunk of skin from her arm as it continued its trajectory into the side of one of the shipping containers, hitting the metal with a dull ping before clattering to the ground.

"Shit," she hissed, glancing down at the raw wound and the blood now trailing down her arm, feeling a little nauseous at the sight of her blood spilling onto the ground. "Not again," she whined.

Without another thought, both Caleb and Tris raised their weapons and spun around, firing in the direction of their enemies as they crouched close to the ground, using the shipping containers to their advantage and staying low.

"You okay?" Caleb asked, his eyes trained on the small group of heavy-set men running to find cover from the rounds fired at them by Caleb and Tris behind the large shipping containers a short distance in front of them.

"I'm fine," she grumbled, shaking off the stinging and burning sensation now radiating up to her shoulder as she lifted her PPK back to shoulder height, moving forward once again before hiding behind a couple of oil drums stacked on top of each other for cover as she heard another burst of gunfire.

"Who invited the extra bad guys?" she asked him when he slammed down next to her, taking cover from another flying bullet, her voice dripping with sarcasm, which was not lost on Caleb.

Caleb raised his arm and spoke into the tiny mic embedded in the leather strap wrapped around his wrist. "Matthew, Tris is getting a little testy. Wants to know who the fuck is coordinating this little shindig, where the hell Four and Zeke are, and why our communications are failing?"

"Tell Tris to cool her jets. I have an extra team heading out to you now," Matthew's soothing tone erupted into Tris's ear.

Tris mumbled something low, and Caleb snickered, saying into the mic, "I think she just cursed your first born in a foreign language."

"Always the lady," Matthew laughed into her ear.

Tris lifted her own wrist to her lips. "Hey, less of the lady," she smiled, even though Matthew couldn't see her, then swore as another bullet flew past her and clanged into the shipping container about four feet from where she and Caleb were hidden.

"How the hell did we end up hiding?" she moaned before adding. "We don't hide. I don't hide. C'mon, Caleb, we can take them."

"Tris, we've been over this," Caleb sighed, his patience being tested by his little sister. "I'm not completely ready to go rushing into a gun fight with possibly ten guys with only two of us and two guns."

Tris looked back over her shoulder, her gun ready at her shoulder. "Where the fuck are Four and Zeke?"

"We're not far, Blondie," she heard in her ear. She had forgotten about the mic attached to her wrist. "Keep your panties on."

"Well, I would if I had any on in the first place," she flirted into the mic, forgetting their quandary for a moment.

"Tris!" Matthew's stern voice filtered through the ear piece.

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled. "Work now, play later."

She inched around the oil drums, peering through the dim lighting and pointing her PPK in the direction where she envisioned her enemies, narrowing her eyes as the shapes of their opponents came into her vision, hidden beneath the shroud of darkness but partially seen because of the dim orange lights shining around the shipyard. "We can take them," she goaded Caleb. "I'll take the six on the right, you can have the few on the left."

"Haven't you emptied half your mag, Tris?" Caleb queried.

Tris looked down at her gun as though it had betrayed her and cursed. "Maybe I could try a double-hitter?" she smirked.

Caleb looked at her incredulously before moving out from behind the drums to fire off another few rounds, smiling as two more bodies dropped to the floor with a soft thud and a garbled sound.

She flinched and bit back a yelp of pain as she rounded the barrel, the cold metal scrapping the open wound on her upper arm, but she aimed and fired, her first two shots finding their destination in the fleshy necks of two man toward the back of the group in front of them. At Tris's signal, she and Caleb silently retracing their steps, moving back the way they had come before separating, each heading in different directions when they reached a crossroads of such in the maze of containers. Tris eased herself along the bulk of another large container, her gun down for the moment, but ready to use should she need it.

She heard a thin whistle, almost as if it was riding the slight breeze, and the sound made her skin pucker into goosebumps along her arms and the back of her neck. It pricked at her memory, and she turned, looking deep into the darkness behind her.

The night was still, the air seeming to stop. "Four?" she whispered, then waited for his response.

After a minute, she turned back to the direction she was originally heading, shaking her head slightly at the weird feeling that overcame her for a moment. She moved again, slowly making her way along the wall of containers. She had passed three more when she heard it again.

Before, it was a slow sound, almost as if the whistler was incredibly lazy and could barely be bothered, but this time, it lasted longer, a tune emanating into the night, and she stopped again. She knew that tune, she remembered where she heard it last, and therefore, she knew who the whistler was. Goosebumps erupted on her skin once again, and she fought a shiver that attempted to run through her form.

She turned again, looking back in the direction she had walked. Still, there was nobody there. However, there was a flickering light dangling high above one of the containers, and her eye was drawn upward.

A man stood on top of the metal box, the outline of his body looming menacingly, and he was still whistling. She didn't know the song, but she knew the tune. It was the same song her parents' murderer whistled late into the night. Sometimes when he was trailing his knife across her skin, other times, when he would lay beside her on the floor in the dining room.

Tris froze, physically unable to move, as images from that time invaded her brain again. The memories she had so deeply buried returning to the surface again for the third time in the last couple of months. This time, though, they were crippling. Freezing her in place despite the need for her to move, to act.

She heard him snicker deep in his throat, and that jolted her from her stupor. She turned her body completely, lifting her arms and aiming her firearm at him. "Not yet," she heard, though she was sure she was too far to hear anything really clearly. She took a step forward, wanted to see his face when she put a bullet through his head.

The minute she moved, gunfire erupted from another area in the shipyard, and she hesitated before stepping back behind the safety of the shipping container into the shadows, away from her torturer.

Their eyes locked through the darkness, and Tris felt physical sickness at the sadistic smirk she found on his lips.

"You look good," he gloated.

"Fuck you," she shot back.

He leered at her, making her skin crawl, before squatting down on the container. "That cop you're fucking. He knows I own you, right?"

Tris squeezed the trigger on her gun, holding his gaze before she squinted slightly, knocking the bullet off its trajectory and pushing it so hard with her mind that it shot through three of the containers behind him.

"Missed me," he jeered, standing again.

"Intentionally," she replied, lowering her gun. "You don't get to die quickly. It will be slow and painful, and I will love every minute of it."

He chuckled gleefully. "Guess I taught you well."

"Tris, where the fuck are you?" Caleb's voice erupted in her ear.

"Tris, are you okay?" Four's voice followed her brother's, concern evident in his voice.

Tris unconsciously flicked her eyes off to her side, and when she looked back, her tormentor was gone.

"Tris?" Caleb voice echoed again, concerned.

"Tris?" Matthew repeated, echoing the sentiments of the other man.

"I'm okay," Tris finally answered, her voice sounding weak and strange even to her.

"The other team is almost with you. Can you make you way back to the entrance?" Matthew asked the agents.

"Sure," Zeke replied in her ear, and Tris turned sharply as the sound of running feet got louder.

She held her weapon, trained in the direction of the noise and ready to shoot whoever was approaching her, forgetting her need for revenge and torture, ready to go in for the kill.

"Hey, babe. Do you mind pointing that somewhere else?"

Tris deflated at the sound of Peter's voice, and when he was close enough, she barreled into his chest, his arms wrapped around her, before her brain kicked into gear.

Peter held for a minute longer than necessary before whispering in her ear. "Cavalry's here."

His voice against her ear jolted Tris, and she pulled back quickly, hitting him hard on his shoulder before she turned on her heel and stalked away, letting her senses guide her, knowing they would find Four for her. She recognized his body amongst the others first and headed toward him, her pace quickening as she neared him.

Four turned to see her hurrying toward him, her form becoming clearer as she stalked through the darkness and filtered light of the shipyard. "It's okay," his voice reached her. "The last of the men ran off trying to save their own skins..." Four stopped talking when he finally saw her frantic expression.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked, stepping forward to meet her.

She nodded absentmindedly, her eyes searching the area around them. Peter had arrived with his partner, Drew, and another team, only to find most of the fighting was over. They were now grumbling about being left out of all the excitement as they mingled with both Caleb and Zeke, who were standing on the other side of the opening.

Four reached for her chin, turning her face back to him, and he immediately noted the fear and agitation apparent in her eyes. "Tris," he said, and her gaze finally locked on his. Her eyes seemed unfocused, and he remembered instantly the last time he had seen this look in her eyes: when he had found her curled in on herself in her shower after telling him about her parents.

Four pulled back. "He was here." It wasn't a question, more a statement, because he knew there was only one person on this Earth who could make her like this.

Tris nodded as her body began to shake.

Four pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her protectively, as his own head twisted and turned, searching the area for anyone out of place. Four scowled a little when Peter moved over to the group, wishing Matthew had sent someone else as back up and not Tris's ex-boyfriend. He watched as Peter flashed his eyes over to them, his brain whirling with his own thoughts and emotions at this situation.

It can't have been more than five minutes since that bastard was here, near Tris again. At that thought he moved before he had a chance to talk himself out of what he was about to do. He maneuvered Tris over to Peter, turning her and pushing her gently closer to him.

"Take her home," he instructed.

"What?" Tris exclaimed loudly, turned back to Four. "Four!"

"You need to go home," Four returned.

"And what are you gonna do? Search through the darkness for someone who is probably already long gone," she shot back.

"Wait, what's going on?" Caleb asked, moving closer to them.

"He was here!" was all Four said.

"Who?" Caleb asked, puzzled as he looked to Tris, observing her shaken state immediately. "Shit, no. No fucking way!"

Caleb began to pace the area, stopping in front of his sister, who looked like she was drawing in on herself. "Why didn't you call for me? Fuck, why didn't you just put a bullet through his head?"

Tris shrugged, "I missed."

"You missed. You fucking MISSED. You never miss," Caleb yelled back to her. "You are incapable of missing a target."

"Hey!" Four intervened, stepping between the two. "Don't yell at her."

Caleb took a deep breath, knowing Four was right, and he shouldn't take his anger out on her. "What were you thinking?" he asked, his voice softer.

"That he has to pay for what he did," she returned with anger. "And a quick death is too good for him. It needs to be painful, and slow, and degrading, and..."

Caleb stopped her, silencing her by pulling her toward him, enveloping her in a hug.

Tris rested against him for a moment, letting his rapidly beating heart steady her, before pulling back and stepping out of his embrace, not wanting to show her weakness in front of others.

She turned to Four, watching his indecision about leaving her with Caleb and hunting down her tormentor.

"Four," she almost whispered to him, reaching out and clasping his hand in hers. "Let's go home."

Four swiveled his head, searching the darkness one more time before turning back to her. He pulled his hand from hers and wrapped his arm across her shoulders, drawing her close and stirred her away to the safety of one of the waiting cars, his mind churning with unanswered questions.

This was the second time something unexpected happened on one of their missions and memories of the conversation with Amar, and his words – _don't trust anyone, rely on each other, and no one else_ – rang through his thoughts.

Was someone in The Dauntless really out to get one of them? Tris's parents' murderer turning up had to be more than a coincident, didn't it? These questions plagued Four's mind as he guided Tris into the passenger seat of the car before he walked around the vehicle and settled into the driver's seat.

He glanced back to the group of agents milling around, his gaze catching Peter's and they locked. Four couldn't read what the other man held in his eyes, but it was something he didn't like. He watched as Peter's lips twitched into a smirk and Four turned his head. Within seconds, the car's powerful engine purred to life, and they sped off in the direction of home

...


	33. Chapter 33

Happy Wednesday!

I'm amazed we have reached 400 reviews and 101 favorites. It still astounds me people are willing to read what I create. I can thank you guys enough: A special virtual hug to each and everyone of you.

Thanks to all who read and run - it's a thing, something I'm sometimes guilty of myself - just to know you are reading is enough.

Special thanks to all who read and take the time to review, you guys don't know how much it makes me smile to hear your comments on each chapter.

Mega, huge love and thanks to the ever vigilant cjgwilliams, you continue to rock. If any of this weeks update seems un-beta'd that's totally my fault and not hers. I added more to it after she'd edited.

And so on to Chapter 33... I'm going to hide in a corner and wait for the fallout! Remember...you love me!

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Chapter 33.

Four drove in silence as Tris gazed out of the passenger seat window, not seeing the passing scenery as her mind buzzed with the events of the evening. Four twisted his head every now and then, his eyes looking her over in concern, watching for any signs of a breakdown that he suspected could very well happen. Aside from the fact she was quiet, which in itself was something unusual for his normally talkative girlfriend, she looked calm. Four had a feeling this wouldn't last and idly wondered where the night would take them.

She moved once to remove the ear piece from her ear and unwrap her leather strap bracelet and place them in the glove box. Four followed her actions and handed his off to her, and she placed them with her own without a word about the action or what had occurred at the shipyard.

He detoured, taking Tris to a place he would go when he needed solace from the horrors of his work, and soon, they sat next to each other on the hood of the car, watching and listening to Lake Michigan's waves crash in the distance in the semi-darkness just north of Chicago

"There's something so peaceful about water," Tris's soft voice penetrated the tranquil night, breaking their silence after closing her eyes and soaking in the nature around them.

"There is," Four agreed, turning his head from the dark waters to her. Her expression was passive, and the slight wind blew at her hair, sending wispy strands dancing.

"I think that's why I love the lake back at the house, the stillness of the water. It's calming," Tris continued, and Four could envision her sitting on that giant boulder beside the large body of water on The Dauntless estate.

Four smiled softly at her casual conversation, knowing she needed to fill the silence between them, giving her less time to think of what had happened that evening. He wanted to talk to her, to gauge how she handling seeing _him_ again. He could see the pensive look on her face but almost instinctively knew she wasn't processing yet. And if she wasn't processing, she certainly wouldn't talk. They stayed there for more than half an hour before Tris shivered as the wind picked up.

"Come on," Four said, sliding from the hood and turning back to offer a hand to her. "Let's go home. It's starting to get cold."

"I'm okay," Tris answered, though she allowed Four to grasp her hand and pull her from the car.

"Yeah, I was actually thinking of myself," Four smirked to her.

Tris gave him a half smile as she playfully whacked him on his shoulder before plucking the car keys from his pocket. "I'll drive."

The house was buzzing with excitement by the time Four and Tris returned, Zeke's successful taking of revenge having made the rounds and the employees of Dauntless celebrated with him and Uriah. Uriah was beyond pissed that his brother had left him out the loop on the take down, but after a lot of sulking, had finally been brought into the celebration.

Tris found a corner in the large room where the impromptu party had erupted to sit by herself, a tumbler containing a small measure of whiskey in her hand, and she finally allowed her mind to review what had occurred that evening. The shock of seeing _him_ standing before her on that container shook her to her very soul. While she knew he was still out there somewhere in the world, and even more so in the last few weeks, the actually proof was a little too much to bear. She played the conversation she'd overheard between Four, Caleb, and Zeke over and over in her head, hearing their words clearly once again as they were regarding her needing extra protection, and despite her vehemence that she didn't want or need to be protected, she now admitted that _maybe_ she did. She didn't doubt her ability in the least to protect herself. She was at the top of her game, in peak condition, and she was able to take on any adversary. But the way she had initially reacted to his presence this evening proved that he still held something over her. The unbounded fear she felt for nine days as a teenager returned in full when his eyes met hers, his gleaming with pleasure and her undoubtedly showing her shock. She was angry with herself for giving him the satisfaction of knowing he could still provoke that emotion in her, but at the same time, seeing him brought back the terror she felt during those days, and how could she _not_ react to him.

She didn't notice the lone tear that fell from her eye until it landed on her wrist. She looked around quickly, her gaze scanning the room and hoping no one had seen her moment of weakness, swiping the droplet from her wrist before she lifted her arm, swallowing the amber liquid in one fluid motion. She turned her head when she heard Four's bellowing laughter from across the room, and she couldn't help the smile that settled on her face as she observed her man talking with their friends and co-workers.

"Shouldn't he be over here making sure you're okay?' a familiar voice asked.

"He's not my keeper," she shot back. "Besides, he's already made sure I'm okay."

"Ah," Peter returned with understanding, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline. "Fucking by the side of the road. You were always up for that."

Tris grabbed a bottle of whiskey from a passing someone's hands, shooting them a deathly glare when they turned to challenge her, and she took a successful swig from her won bottle before glaring at her ex. "Not everything is about sex, Peter."

Peter laughed, a light mocking sound that irritated Tris.

"Babe, with you, _everything_ is about sex."

Tris poured herself a liberal measure of the alcohol in her glass which she held in her hand. "Guess you don't know me as well as you thought you did." This constant need he seemed to have to remind her of their old relationship was something she didn't need or want. Especially now, in this moment, with the face of her past swimming before her.

"Oh, I know you, all right," Peter leered to her.

Tris again emptied her glass and poured another, wondering what she ever saw in the agent who had seated himself beside her, apart from the obvious of course. After all, she was a sucker for his particular persona and physique.

"Just leave me alone, Peter," Tris said wearily, hating the slight pleading tone her voice held. She tipped her head back once again to drink the entire glass.

"I'm just looking out for you, Tris," Peter returned, his voice softer this time.

Tris sighed, looking at the bottle in her hand and debated over another. She wasn't sure she could take Peter's taunts in her current state and just wanted the comfort of oblivion.

"I don't need you to look out for me," she said, placing the bottle on the floor beside her chair. "I'm not your responsibility."

"You're never anyone's responsibility, Tris," he said sadly. "You won't allow yourself to be."

"There is nothing wrong with being independent," she bit back vehemently.

"And there's nothing wrong with sharing your burdens with someone either," Peter soothed, his hand reaching out and rubbing her back gently. "I know you, Tris," he continued. "And seeing this dick again, that has messed with your mind."

Tris's back stiffened at his touch and his words, bristling at the fact that he _did_ know her well enough to at least notice that.

"If you need someone to talk to about all this shit, you know I'm here for you."

"I don't need to talk to you, Peter. There are plenty of other people here that will listen."

Peter huffed. "You think your cop boyfriend understands? I don't think so, Tris."

"Will you stop with your vendetta against Four?" Tris moaned, moving away from him a little and out of his reach, her eyes flicking over to Four, who was talking with Uriah and Will by the bar. "It's me you're pissed with, not him. And I bet if you had met under different circumstances, you would be friends."

Across the room Four caught Tris' fleeting glance. He noticed her empty glass and the half empty bottle of whiskey by her feet. She looked deep in conversation with Peter, and while he wasn't extremely happy at the closeness of the two, he trusted her completely.

When Tris's forehead wrinkled slightly at something Peter said to her, and she shook her head, glancing over to him again, Four excused him from the conversation with his fellow agents and moved across the room. Once beside her, he bent slightly, and she instinctively tilted her head up, his lips brushing against hers slowly in greeting.

"Hey," she smiled at him. "The guys' conversation got boring, eh?"

"There's only so much you can take of Uriah talking about his latest conquest," Four grinned back to her. "Or should that be conquests."

"Two?" Tris asked, arching a brow in question.

"More like three," Four told her, amusement evident in his voice.

"Too freaky for you?" Peter teased Four.

"Please," Tris answered for him with a look of mischief on her face. "Besides, Uriah's probably exaggerating somewhat."

Peter felt a pang of jealousy when Four kissed Tris again, knowing the other man was taking his time and staking his claim on the girl who had broken his heart. And Tris' look wasn't lost on him, either. It was a look that implied they enjoyed an adventurous sex life, something that Peter once had with her. He couldn't, wouldn't stand it. He wanted Tris back and was prepared to fight dirty to do it. He knew her weaknesses and had no problem with exploiting them to hurt both Tris and Four.

"Does she still do that thing with her tongue?" Peter gloated, a satisfied look on his face as he effectively ruined the moment between the couple, who drew back from one another to look at him in disbelief. "I taught her that."

Four took a step toward Peter, who was still seated beside Tris, his hands clenched into fists.

"He's just provoking you, Four. Ignore him," Tris whispered, calming her boyfriend, who was so easily rattled by her ex.

"How does it feel to know she'll come back to me some day?" Peter pushed, his grin growing as Four's face flushed in anger. He enjoyed seeing the anger rise in Four's eyes.

"Peter, stop it," Tris chastised, noting that several people were turning their heads to the corner they occupied.

"You'll see, man. I'm only trying to help you out," Peter reasoned, completely ignoring Tris for the moment and standing, his height matching Four's.

"She's fucked up in here," he pointed to his head, "and no matter what you try and do to help her, she won't let that go. What that guy did to her, it wasn't only physical. It was psychological, as well, and you will never understand that."

Tris inhaled sharply at Peter's words, her head swiveling to the people immediately around them who were now looking over at them with thinly veiled interest in the conversation that was becoming more and more intense.

"Peter," she whispered hotly, standing trying to put herself between them.

"I don't have to understand, I just have to be there for her. And I will be because she doesn't deserve to be treated like a piece of shit," Four returned, his voice getting louder.

"Four, please," Tris begged. She looked from one man to the other. They were both riled up, their animosity for each other finally spilling over. She should have known something like this would happen eventually, but she had secretly hoped the two would come to blows in a place where a party wasn't occurring.

"Is everything okay here?" Christina's voice reached her ears.

"Fine," Tris replied through gritted teeth, her eyes boring into Four and Peter in turn. Tris turned and grabbed a hold of Four's arm in an attempt to pull him away from Peter and the scene the two were creating. "Let's go, Four," she instructed harshly, casting a scathing look to Peter before turning and ushering Four from the room before Peter went too far.

Unfortunately, Peter followed them out of the large room and into the hallway, intent on continuing this conversation. "You think that's what I did? That I treated her like shit?" Peter threw out to Four. "I treated her exactly like she wanted me to."

Four continued down the corridor, wanting nothing but to get Tris away from her former boyfriend's vicious words and wanting to walk away before he was forced to do something about Peter, who was clearly pushing his buttons for some reason.

"Let me give you some insider knowledge about your girlfriend. Tris is the kind of person who takes what she wants from a person. She wouldn't have it any other way," Peter continued, calling out after them, causing the two to turn in the corridor and face him. "There is something disturbed within her, damaged beyond fixing, something that only another evil person can understand, and you, _Mayberry Boy_ , will never understand that. That fucker who killed her parents and used her, he left a piece of himself inside of her, and nobody or nothing will ever be able to remove that."

There was silence for a minute in the corridor as Four and Peter stared at each other. Tris took a step back from Four, her breathing coming quick and harsh at Peter's words.

 _Was he right? Was that why she acted the way she did? Was she so damaged she could never be saved?_

She took another step back.

"You won't be her savior," Peter taunted. "She doesn't _want_ to be saved."

"I don't need to be saved," Tris whispered, but the guys didn't hear her.

"Has she told you all the sordid details?" Peter asked Four. "All the things he did to her?" The glance Four gave Tris told him everything he needed to know, and Peter smirked again. She hadn't told him, either, but Four didn't need to know that, and he was fine with the other man assuming his relationship with Tris clearly had more trust, that Tris revealed her innermost secrets to him instead of Four. It wasn't the truth, but Four would never know.

"Guess you're not that special someone in her life then," Peter pushed gleefully.

Four broke at that and took a run at Peter, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist and tackling him to the wood floor.

"Four!" Tris called out, causing people from the party to look out the room into the hallway as she stepped closer to them.

Peter rolled on the hardwood floor, turning and lashing out with his fist, grinning when it connected with Four's chin.

"Four!" Tris tried again. "Stop."

The two men didn't hear her as they matched each other hit for hit, punch for punch. Four struggling to his feet, pulling Peter with him by his shirt. He turned the two of them and smashed Peter against the wall.

"Do not disrespect Tris," he ground out through gritted teeth, dismissing the slow flow of blood that trickled from a small cut above his eye. "She deserves so much more than that. And she deserves so much more than either you or I can give her, but I'll be damned if I stood here and let you talk about her like that."

"Believe me, she's heard worse," Peter sneered. He kicked out his leg, hitting Four's knee, the same time he twisted out of Four's hold. Once free, Peter turned and hooked his elbow back, hitting Four in the soft flesh of his neck.

Four staggered back slightly before moving forward into Peter's space. A double punch to Peter's ribs sent him reeling back, a grimace of pain shooting across his features. Peter rushed at Four, copying his opponent's earlier technique and he wrapped his arms around Four's waist.

Four shuffled back but remained on his feet, his arm swinging before he slammed his fist down onto Peter's back; a kidney hit hurt like hell. Air whooshed out of Peter with the force of Four's punch and he released Four, stumbling back before standing straight, his body twisting into the pain.

Four didn't let him catch his breath and his fist collided satisfactory with Peter's face, blood splattering on his knuckles. Four continued forward, shoving Peter with his upper body, pushing Peter into the wall. Peter slammed hard but moved quickly, rolling against the wall and away from Four. He lifted his foot and brought it down hard against the back of Four's knee.

Four went down with the blow and Peter was on his back in an instant, twisting Four's arm up and behind his back.

"She'll never trust you enough to tell you everything. She'll just tell you want she thinks you want to hear and then fuck you. Sex is all she knows, sex and fighting," Peter taunted into Four's ear.

"You're wrong," Four bit back. "She's so much more."

Four lifted up, pulling his arm from Peter's grasp and knocking him off his back. Four rolled to standing, raising his fists. "You're wrong," he reiterated. Everything around Four narrowed, his vision tunneling on Peter as he moved with lightning speed, pummeling Peter and forcing the man down the corridor.

He felt large hand wrapped around his upper arm, pulling his arm back the same time another hand pulled on his shoulder.

"Four," Caleb's voice filtered through his muddled brain.

He focused on Zeke and Caleb pulling him back, obviously intent on breaking up this fight. Caleb looked as pissed as Four felt, obviously having heard what the other agent said about his sister. Four twisted further to see Tris, her normally vibrant chameleon eyes now pale and washed out. Her lip was trembling slightly, and he could see she was barely keeping herself together.

He finally focused on his friends gathered in the doorway, Christina and Tori spilling out into the hallway. From the looks on their faces, it was obvious they had heard what Four and Peter had been arguing about, and it was clear they were concerned about both him and Tris.

"Four, please, let's just go," Tris whispered. "Ignore him, he's just jealous and vindictive."

Four turned back to Peter, where he was slumped against the wall. "You stay away from her," Four threatened before he pushed the other agent away, adding just that little extra strength with his Divergent abilities and watching as he fell to the floor. Four turned around fully and strode away from Peter, missing the glint in his adversary's eyes and his wry smile. He placed his hand on Tris' back and steered her from the crowd gathering in the corridor, heading for the marble staircase and their room.

Once alone in the room they shared, Tris headed to the bathroom, grabbing a box of alcohol wipes she kept there for small cuts which didn't need Tori's expertise.

She pushed Four down onto the edge of the bed, tossing the box down next to him. She lifted a couple of the individually wrapped swabs from the box and ripped one open before gingerly touching the thin material to the small cut by the side of his left eye. Four winced as the sting of the antiseptic on his open wound shot through him.

"You okay?" Four asked her after a few minutes had passed, his eyes intently watching her every movement as she tended to his wounds.

She didn't answer him. Instead, she just continued with her impromptu nursing. When she deemed his face was sufficiently cleansed, she returned the box to her mirrored medicine cabinet in the bathroom. She moved back into the main room, fully aware of Four's eyes following her.

She couldn't believe Peter had said those things about her in the hallway, and she cringed at the fact that some of his accusations could very well be true. He was someone who had at one time been very important to her, someone who she had shared some of her hopes and dreams with. She never imagined he would be so cruel to use those against her and her latest boyfriend now.

Four interrupted her inner thoughts.

"Tris, why won't you talk to me?" he asked, his voice timid, Peter's words replaying over and over in his mind. Had she told Peter about what happened to her? Had she confided in Peter what she couldn't tell him? He hated the doubt creeping in. Doubt that they relationship meant more to him than it did to her.

"About what?" Tris responded, hoping Four would just drop whatever he was thinking about. "About Peter?"

"No. You know what," Four returned, stopping her as she paced past him, his hand clasping on top of hers. "About what happened to you."

Tris turned away from him, though her fingers tightened around his, and she clenched her eyes shut for a moment.

"What did he do to you?" Four probed again, his voice softening. He could feel the anger there, deep inside him, but wouldn't allow it to rise to the surface. Tris was on the edge, he could see it, and she needed tenderness right now, not anger.

"You don't want to know, Four," Tris whispered, not looking at him.

"Of course I do," Four told her honestly. "Tris, this thing between us, it's special. I don't want to lose that."

"That's why I can't tell you," Tris turned back to him, her gaze pleading for him to drop this. She needed him to understand her desire to not tell him, to keep it all inside, where she alone had to live with the memories and therefore not hurt anyone she loved.

"You think I'm gonna leave you because of something some sick bastard did to you?" Four questioned with disbelief. He could feel the anger rising again, that she would think this of him, but pushed it back. He had to know what he was dealing with before he could allow himself to feel.

"Why wouldn't you?" she all but screamed at him, pulling her hand from his. "It's not pretty, Four."

"And I understand that, I honestly do. But you can't keep it all inside, hiding it in a bottle or behind sex when things become too much. You need to talk about it," he started, his voice barely audible as he murmured, "you need to let me in."

"Let you in," she almost laughed, hating how caring and gentle his voice sounded despite the cruelty of her own. She didn't want this; she didn't want to be a bitch to him but she also didn't want to tell him what he asked. She couldn't hurt him with the truth about herself.

"Yes."

"You really want to know?"

"Yes," Four repeated adamantly.

"You want to know that he took great pleasure in slicing my skin with a smile on his face?" she started, her anger evident in her voice. "That he tied me down and raped me while my dad watched? That he degraded me in so many ways, it makes me sick just thinking about it? You want to know what it felt like to have him moving inside me while I was covered with blood and my parents dead in the next room?"

Years of repression, of not telling anyone the particulars of what happened, broke as she screamed the horrific details to Four, not noticing as her tears started to fall. Her emotions, held in check for so many years, felt like they were being tossed in a washer as her body shook from the force of their release.

"You want to know how he marked me as his so I would never forget? That the marks he left, the scars they would become weren't enough for him, so he had to go that one step further? How he said I was beautiful, special, someone to be worshiped and adored while all the time he was abusing my body? Or how about how much it hurt? You want to know about that?"

"Tris," Four whispered, trying to take her hand again. She pulled away from him, taking a step back.

"How about when you're above me and moving in me, every time a small part of me replays the way he held me down, tied me with a rope or tape or anything just to stop me from fighting back?" she asked, her voice breaking with the question. "How about when you try to pin my wrists down, I panic, and I use my abilities against you... _you_ , Four. I could hurt you so badly, but I can't stop myself because I can't let myself be in that position again."

She couldn't stop now, the dam had opened, and with tears streaming down her face, she continued and all the emotions that she held back –the anger, the fear, the panic, and the sadness – came rushing out.

"Or how about the fact that I like rough sex, how about that?" she sardonically laughed, almost manically. "Knowing what he did to me, and I can't stop myself. And then how scared I am to think this is a result of what he did to me. That he created who I am today."

She shook with the force of her words, as though she was only just thinking them. She was almost like the statue from the Pygmalion myth, she thought. This person who had violated her had created her, carved this version of her out of the battered and abused body he had created in her parents' dining room.

"Tris," Four tried again, his voice still soft, reaching for her hand again. His sadness at her admissions showing in his eyes, and he almost wished he hadn't pushed her to this point. Because now there was no going back for them, he knew the horrors she had seen and been through. He only hoped they would come out the other side stronger, together and more united than they had been. He needed to make her understand that knowing all of that didn't change anything for him.

"No, Four, just don't, please," she pleaded, unable to lift her eyes and meet his.

Four ignored her pleas and grasped her hand again, pulling her toward him as he stood from the bed, enveloping her in his arms, crushing her much smaller body against his in a tight hug. Tris' body was still shaking from her revelations, and he ran his large hands up and down her back in a soothing motion.

He wouldn't lie and say he wasn't completely horrified listening to her frantic description of her days in hell, but she was still Tris. She was still the girl who made his heart leap and his breathing rapid whenever he thought of her. Still the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He loved her, loved her beyond anything in this world and he knew she felt the same, regardless of her reluctance to admit that to him or herself.

"I'm not going anywhere, not until you send me packing," he told her softly.

A few minutes passed where they just stood together, Four holding her close, her small hands balled into fists against his chest, and her head resting against him. He could feel their hearts beating, and even now, despite her anger and panic at her revelations, they still beat in time with each other.

Tris unclenched her hands and laid her palms flat against the material of his shirt. She could feel the hard muscles of his chest, the slight increase in the beating of his heart that matched her own. She closed her eyes, relishing this moment, capturing the image she was sure they made and committing it to memory.

She knew her feelings for any other man would never equal those she held for the one who held her safely in his arms at that moment. The one who wanted nothing but to comfort her, protect her, cherish and love her. She knew he was the love of her life, and no other would come close to what she felt for Four. Her heart plummeted at the words she was about to utter.

"I want you to go," she whispered against his chest, her eyes still closed and her tear-stained cheeks wet.

Four's in-sync heart faltered maybe two, three beats before thumping quickly.

He pulled back from her a little, holding her chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up to his, and she opened her eyes. "Do you mean that? I mean, really mean that? Because if that's what you want, I will go, Tris, though it will kill me."

Tris' eyes twitched as they bore into his, as if she was looking for an answer to some question she didn't yet know how to ask.

"Do you want me to leave? Leave you?" he asked again.

Tris licked her lips, the dryness there suddenly too much and her gaze broke from his, fixing on his broad chest instead. "Yes," she returned, so low that Four's ears had to strain to hear her.

Four was taken back by her answer, so sure she wouldn't actually say yes after the moments they had just shared together. After _all_ they had experienced together.

Tris broke away from his embrace, her heart breaking at what she was doing, but she was unable to stop herself. "I want you to leave," she clarified, her voice a little stronger as she resolved herself. She turned and headed for the door.

"Wait, Tris," his voice faltered, and she turned to face him again, pausing by the exit of their room. "Where are you going?"

"You stay here, I'll find somewhere else to sleep tonight."

Four couldn't believe this was happening. Was she really ending things between them? "But..." he fumbled over his words. He had told her he would leave. Could he? "This is your room," he finally said, noting the tears brimming in her eyes again.

She smiled weakly at him. "It's your room, too." She turned back to the door. "There are other rooms that are mine, as well," she continued softly as she opened the door almost silently.

"Tris," Four called out, taking a step toward her.

"Please, Tobias," she pleaded with him, holding her hands up in a stopping motion. "Don't make this any harder than it already is."

"It doesn't have to be hard. This isn't the right decision." He couldn't help the words falling from his lips. He knew once the numbness he felt thawed, he wouldn't be able to function. He had to try to stop her, to make her see that walking away would destroy them both.

Tris passed through the door before glancing back to the man she was walking away from. She desperately wanted to tell him she loved him; that he was right, this was the wrong decision, but Peter's words echoed loudly in her mind.

 _She was damaged. There is something disturbed within her._

She didn't want to bring Four down with her on her road to destruction because as much as she denied it, that was the only road she was on right now, and the only thing that kept her going was the thought that before she left this world, she would take that bastard with her.

She turned and closed the door behind her, blocking out Four's pleas for her to come back.

She walked slowly down the corridor of the west wing, not completely sure where she was headed, only that it was away from Four.

"Hey, Tris. Are you okay?" a female voiced called out, concern evident in their voice.

Tris walked straight past Christina and Tori, her eyes expressionless.

"This is not good," Christina said to Tori, her voice fearful. She'd never seen Tris look so haunted.

Tori hurried after Tris, grabbing hold of her arm and turning the blond to face her. "Tris?" Tori's head swiveled back to the door that led to her room. "Where's Four?"

"He's in his room," Tris answered, her voice unemotional.

" _HIS_ room?" Christina asked, stepping closer to her friend. "Since when was it just his room."

Tris' eyes flicked to the oak door. "Since I ended things with him."

"What!?" Tori exclaimed.

"Are you insane?" Christina cried.

Tris raised her eyes and her eyebrows lifted in a gesture her friends understood as _'maybe'._

"Peter was right," Tris said, turning back to continue on her way.

"What!?" Christina repeated Tori's exclamation. She was furious. "Did I hear you right? Did you just say Peter was right? As in Peter Hayes, the good-looking Neanderboy who thinks you're his personal property, is right? About what?"

Tris shrugged, but didn't stop walking.

Christina and Tori exchanged a concerned glance before turning back to a fast retreating Tris.

"Where are you going?" Christina asked as Tris started descending the stairs.

"To get a drink," her voice drifted back.

The two girls shared another concerned look before hurrying after their friend.

Three hours later, Tris and Tori carried a very intoxicated Christina between them up to her room. Christina's arms were splayed across their shoulders, with them holding onto her hands. Their other arms were wrapped around the tall agent's waist.

"We really need an elevator in this place," Tris groaned to Tori as the two struggled under Christina's weight.

"She is surprisingly heavy for someone so toned," Tori returned. She was the only one of the three whose brain was still functioning as it should.

She had taken a few alcoholic drinks with Christina and Tris, but she cut herself off at two, determined to stop Tris from doing something else she would deeply regret in the morning. They'd tried to get Tris to talk about it but she had adamantly refused, leaving Christina and Tori with the choice of either drinking with her or leaving her to her misery. Terrified at what Tris might do, they'd chosen to stay.

Tris had drank half a bottle of Vladimir's vodka before giving up on trying to drown her sorrows by the time Christina passed out on the couch. She wasn't piss-assed drunk, but she's wasn't exactly cold stone sober either. She had a happy numb buzz and her thoughts had taken a vacation. She was grateful for that.

"Hey, let's drop her off at Will's," Tori suggested. "I don't think she should be alone in this state."

"Ookey dokey artichokey," Tris' voice sang from Christina's other side, and Tori couldn't help but smile.

Tris rapped loudly on Will's door, just in case the other agent was asleep at this late hour.

"Yeah?" Will's sleep-addled voice sounded from within the room.

"Special delivery," Tris called out, her voice light.

A minute later, Will opened the door, his hair sticking out in several directions, his eyes half closed. His chest was bare and his boxers hung low on his hips.

Tris's eyes raked over him, and she whistled low. "Well, Will. What have you been hiding?"

This seemed to wake Will up completely. "Are you drunk?" he asked her, narrowing his eyes at her and his hands moving to cover his groin.

"Not completely," she sighed as she hefted Christina a little, tilting her head toward her friend. "But she is."

"Can she stay with you tonight?" Tori asked. "I don't think she should be alone like this."

"Sure," Will answered quickly, opening the door wider to let the three girls enter.

Tori and Tris comically maneuvered Christina into Will's room, Tris unintentionally slamming herself against a dresser as Tori seemed to tip all the weight onto her. "Now, that will leave a mark," Tris moaned, letting go of Christina's hand to rub her hip. Tori stumbled again with the sudden weight, and Christina started to crumple to the floor in slow motion.

Will moved quickly and swept Christina up into his arms.

"Wow, Will. Now that's a way to truly sweep a girl off her feet," Tris grinned.

"Well, I try," Will smirked back to her.

Tris checked him out again. "Have you always had that body, Will?" she asked, tipping her head slightly to the side and biting her lower lip.

"No, I bought it from eBay," he returned deadpan as he carried Christina over to the bed.

"Hey, we should do that," Tris turned to Tori.

"Do what?" Tori asked confused, stretching out her back.

"Buy a male body from eBay," Tris returned as if she was talking to someone extremely dim-witted.

"I think he was joking," Tori grinned back to her.

"Duh! I'm not that drunk, ya know," Tris shot back.

"Haven't you got your own male body just down the hall?" Will asked confused after placing his seemingly unconscious girlfriend on the bed.

Tris waved him off. "And you had to go and ruin my buzz," she moaned, flopping down across his bed, her arms falling above her head.

Will turned to grin at Tori. "And all my fantasies are now complete."

"Uh, men!" Tori groaned.

"What?" Will laughed, holding his hand out to show the two girls laid on his bed. "Tori, I would love for you to find me any male heterosexual who wouldn't find this highly arousing."

"No unconscious sex, Will," Tris's voice drifted up from the bed.

"So this is where the real party is," another male voice echoed into the room.

Tris groaned as she lifted herself up onto her elbows to see Peter standing in the doorway, an amused expression on his handsome face. There was a cut above his right eye and a slight bruise forming on his cheek, these being the only visual remnants of his fight with Four.

"I have to admit to you, Will. I didn't expect to find you with three girls in your room," Peter said a smirk on his face.

"Jealous?" Tris threw at him.

"Naturally," Peter shot back to her.

Tris stood from the bed and moved to the door. "Take care of my girl," she tossed over her shoulder to Will as she shimmed past Peter, who refused to move.

"Sure thing," Will rushed out. "Hey, Tris, we'll continue this later, right?" he asked hopefully.

Tris just smirked to him as moved off down the corridor, Peter following immediately behind her.

"Make sure she has plenty of water if she wakes," Tori instructed Will before rushing after Tris. Tris in this state was highly volatile and Tori couldn't leave her with Peter, not after what he'd said.

"Hey," Peter called out to Tris. "Isn't your room in the other direction?"

"Not tonight, it isn't," she answered over her shoulder.

"You should stay with me tonight," Tori stated, her eyebrows shooting up as if imploring Tris to take her up on her offer.

"Well, it seems you got the first part of your M.O down, the alcohol part," Peter gloated, following the two girls closely. "Want me to help you with the second?"

Tris turned back to her, her eyes narrowing slightly at him before they unconsciously drifted to the door at the end of the corridor. Peter nearly crowed with delight. He'd gotten to her as he knew he would.

"Sure, why not?" she answered. He'd been right about everything else about her, why not this too? She didn't deserve anything better.

"Tris, are you crazy? You don't want to do this," Tori stated quickly and quietly as Peter moved closer to them, a huge grin plastered on his face.

"Yes, I do," she hissed back. "Just go back to your room."

"Tris, please," Tori grabbed hold of her hand. "Think about what you are throwing away."

"Hey," Peter interjected himself between them. "She said she wants this, so lay off, Tori."

"Fuck you, Peter," she spat out, disgusted with him at that moment and the way he was taking advantage of Tris' less than sober state, and her obvious distress at what had happened that evening. Her hand balled into a fist as she seriously considered hitting Peter. The only thing that stopped her was the vicious look in his eyes. Tori faltered, uncertain whether Peter would hit her back. She hadn't gone through agent training and the thought of being hit did not sit well with her.

She turned back to Tris, holding her friend's face between her hands, looking her deep in the eyes.

"I know you, Tris, and you will hate yourself in the morning if you have sex with Peter." Tori wasn't sure she could stop Tris, she'd never seen her this far gone. But she had to try. Tori was deathly afraid that losing Four would push Tris completely over the edge and she'd lose her friend forever.

Tris's eyes seemed almost dead to Tori in that minute, as if the Tris she knew and loved was no longer there.

"I hate myself already," the blonde whispered, as she moved away from Tori and closer to Peter.

He held his hand out to her, and after a few moments, she slid hers into his grasp and let him pull her down the hallway.

Tori watched them go, tears flowing down her face, knowing that there was no coming back for Tris if she did this.

She debated going to get Four or Caleb or someone who would be able to stop her, but involving others in this would only make things worse and make Tris more stubborn about it.

She turned reluctantly when Tris disappeared into Peter's room, slowly making her way to her own room.

…


	34. Chapter 34

Happy Wednesday!

I have to say - WOW! - the response over last weeks chapter has been phenomenal. 30 reviews for one chapter is certainly a all-time best for me. I will admit, it took me a while to come out from behind the couch after posting, knowing the reaction would not be the best, but you guys are awesome. Even those of you who -jokingly - expresses your hatred for me, at least I hope it was jokingly, I loved to hear your comments.

I would love to respond to you all privately but want you all to know how grateful I am for you taking the time to post a review, especially those who don't usually post.

Katrina: Hope this chapter helps :)

For those who expressed a wish not to know, in detail, what happened behind Peter's closed door, ignore the italic section.

I love to ramble on, especially about the fact there are a couple of social media groups out there who are actively discussing this fic - that just knocks me out - but I'm sure you don't want to hear from me, you want to get on with the next chapter.

And so, on we go...

* * *

Chapter 34.

Four's disbelief in Tris' actions had caused him to stare at the door long after she had closed it, willing it to open again and for Tris to come bounding through. It was a full ten minutes before he realized that wasn't going to happen.

He paced. Stalking around the room almost wildly as his brain tried in vain to comprehend what had just happened. Had she really just broken up with him? Had she thrown away their relationship because she couldn't get the words of a fuckward out of her head? Surely this was some nightmare.

Hearing some of the finer details of her abuse had shattered a part of himself. To know she had been forced to go through that, that she lived with that every day of her life just as he lived with the memories of his own abuse. What she had revealed the previous night would give him nightmares for years, and if there was more degradation for her, something she hadn't told him, he didn't want to know about it. He knew there were monsters out there who preyed on the young and helpless, his own father was one of them, but what that bastard had done to her was beyond a monster; it was pure evil.

And now…was he strong enough to stay and fight for her?

She had told him to go, she wanted him to leave; to leave her. Could he do that?

His frustration creeped back in. How could she have so easily tossed aside everything they had? Did he truly mean so little to her that she could walk away so easily? He thought they were more. He clenched his fists as he paced around the room, the room they shared. She was everywhere in this room, her scent lingering, her personality almost woven into the walls. He needed to get out of there.

He pulled hard on the door knob, opening it with a force that almost astonished himself. He moved through the hallways with anger almost seeping from him. He wanted to hurt something. Not something, Peter fucking Hayes. He almost imagined coming across Peter in one of the darkened rooms and a white flash of need to hurt, to seriously damage, burned within him.

Four could hear the muted sounds of the party still in progress and twisted his body to move in the other direction, away from the joy and celebration of his friend. He soon found himself at the top of the stairs that led down to the gym and his feet moved before his mind registered what he wanted to do.

The B.O.B. didn't stand a chance as Four pummeled the torso of the boxing aid. His anger and frustration pouring out of him through his hands. He envisioned the face of Peter atop the plastisol body, his smug grin baiting Four on, and Four obliged.

He shouldn't have pushed her, almost forcing to her to tell him what she'd been through. He should have just trusted she would have told him in her own time because, logically, he knew she was opening up more to him and he knew how hard that was for her. He hit harder, pushing with his divergent ability and the B.O.B. rocked dangerously. He was pissed at himself for letting Peter's biting remarks get to him. Along with the bone-deep weariness came a numbness, both in his body and in his heart.

He lost track of time, unsure of how long he had been in the gym by the time he sank to the ground, his knuckles bleeding and bruised. He felt the fight slip from him, his exhaustion settling over him like an unwelcome blanket.

She wanted him to leave, to leave her. Could he remain here and not be able to touch her, to hold her, to kiss her? Would he end up like Peter pining for her, refusing to acknowledge what they had was over, or would he be like Vladimir and watch quietly as she hooked up with someone else?

He didn't think he could do that. Either possibility of what his life would become if he stayed here was something he couldn't live with. He needed a clean break if he was ever going to recover from this heartache. If she wanted him to leave her then he would, but he would also leave The Dauntless.

He stood on unsteady legs, the adrenaline gone from his body and his limbs dealing with the aftermath. Slowly, he made his way back to their…his…her…room, his mind made up. He couldn't stay here, with The Dauntless, and not be an intimate part of her life. He needed to leave, completely.

He showered first, hissing as the hard stream of hot water battered his overused muscles. The pain in his cuts, both knuckles and face, singing almost gleefully. He dressed quickly and then began pulling his clothing from the closet. He'd piled half his belongings on the bed before exhaustion rippled through him. Knowing he wouldn't be safe to drive at the moment, he settled onto the chaise lounge and wearily closed his eyes.

…

Tris stirred as the sun fell across her face through a large window. She was lying on her chest in an extremely comfortable bed, and she had a fleeting thought that it was a bed she hadn't been in for a while. She registered the feel of a soft sheet against her bare legs and also noted she seemed to be wearing a pair of shorts and a camisole top. She twisted her head away from the bright light that fell upon her face and turned in the bed so she was on her back before slowly and cautiously opening one eye.

All she could see at first was pale pink, the sight confusing her, and she sat up quickly in the bed. She looked around the room wildly, astounded that she had ended up here after the night before. Her old room was exactly as it had been the last time she had slept there, a couple of weeks before her parents' murder. After that time, she could no longer step into the room without feeling she was betraying the girl who had slept there previously, irreversibly changed after her parents were gone.

She wasn't exactly the poster child for virginal chastity before that time, but what he took from her and what he did to her made her feel like she couldn't face the innocence of her childhood room following that. Her hopes and dreams were shattered, and from that loss something else had grown, and she had become the person she was today.

She wasn't exactly proud of everything she had done in the eight years since then but they were her mistakes. She hadn't always learned from them, but she had grown. She scooted back in the canopied bed as her mind replayed the events the previous evening, which she was willing to admit was absolutely NOT one of her finer moments.

 _Peter opened the door to his room with a flourish, holding it wide for Tris to enter into his personal space, and as she did, he followed her inside. The room hadn't changed since she was last inside it more than a year or so ago. The walls still dark with their deep blue and burgundy color, the lighting still low, and her picture still displayed on his dresser._

 _She turned away from the sight, not quite believing he still had an image of her on show, as if they were still dating._ Had he never taken that picture down? _The question formed on her lips and her brow furrowed, but the question died in her throat as Peter's presence cut it off._

" _So, why are you not with Four right now?" Peter asked, coming up behind her, his hand moving aside her long hair so his fingers could dance along her pulse point._

" _I don't want to talk about Four," she whispered, her voice catching slightly on his name. She didn't turn to look at Peter, her head buzzing slightly with alcohol, and she pushed all thoughts of the man she had rejected to the back of her mind as she willed herself to focus on the man behind her. She didn't want to think, didn't want to acknowledge the sick feeling in her stomach she'd had since she'd walked out of her bedroom._

" _Good," Peter returned, his lips an inch from the skin he had just caressed, his hands settling on her hips. "Me neither."_

 _She closed her eyes when his mouth connected with her neck, unconsciously tipping her head to the side to give him more access. She leaned back against him, the feel of his hard body against hers familiar, though not feeling quite right. His tongue traced her skin as he left open kisses along her neck and collar bone, moving up to her ear. His left hand moved up from her hip to cup her left breast and she felt him groan as he kneaded her giving flesh, the sound vibrating from his chest to her back._

 _He nipped at her ear before whispering, "You feel so good. Just like I remember."_

 _Tris cringed at his words, not wanting to think he fantasized about her during their time apart because that was a little too creepy... even for Peter._

 _He eased back a little from her, putting a small space between their bodies before grabbing the hem of her t-shirt and moving the material up and over her head, tossing it to floor behind him in one smooth motion._

 _Tris' eyes remained closed, her hands falling back to her sides as Peter quickly divested himself of his own shirt then pulled her body back to his, her back against his front. His lips fell to her neck again, and this time his kisses were a little harder and more demanding as both of his hands reached for her breasts, grasping at her through the thin lace of her bra._ _She forced herself to lean back against him again and she felt how hard he was for her through the denim of her jeans. Her arms were still limp at her sides, as if they were reluctant to move and return his touch._

" _Shit, Tris," Peter moaned against her neck, "you taste so good."_

 _Tris' body shuddered involuntarily. He knew all the right buttons to press, just how to touch her, and he was using it to his advantage. He switched to her other ear before he continued his assault on her neck as his right hand left her breast and moved back down her body, toying with the waistband of her jeans._

 _Peter grinned against her neck when he popped the fastening and burrowed his hand into her pants. "No panties," he chuckled, his voice low. "It's good to know some things never change."_

 _His other hand pulled the material covering her breast down and rolled her now exposed nipple with expertise between his thumb and forefinger, and again, her body reacted as if detached from her mind, which was finally beginning to focus. The more she focused, the less pleasure she found in his touch._

" _I want to lick you, Tris," he murmured, burying his head in the crook of her neck as he continued the motion of his fingers against her breast. "I want it so bad. To lick every inch of your body. To bite you until you scream in pleasure. To have you beneath me withering in ecstasy, so close to orgasm that you are begging for it. Begging me to fuck you harder, faster, deeper. And I will, you know I will."_

 _She vaguely wondered if he had been this obnoxious when they had dated, and if he had, why it never bothered her. Back then, she couldn't really call what she had with Peter a relationship. It was a means to an end. Though they might have been exclusive with each other, for her, at least, it was more a physical thing than anything else._

 _Now, he knew all the words to say, the way to touch her that made her want more, but it wasn't right. His touch, though knowledgeable and_ _skillful,_ _lacked something. It finally hit her: His hands weren't right. They weren't the right hands. While they were large, they were also soft, too soft, and the skin lacked the calluses she had come to love. While they touched her with passion, want, and need, they didn't hold that special reverence, respect, and devotion she had come to expect from another pair of hands. Hands that belonged to a man just down the hall._

 _She cringed, the truth hitting her like a pile of bricks._ I love Tobias.

 _Peter's hand dipped lower, the tip of his fingers searching. His leg pushed against hers, telling her without words he wanted her to move, and he maneuvered her slightly, guiding her to where he wanted with his body, and then he instructed, "Open your eyes, Tris."_

 _Tris swallowed nervously before complying, her eyes flying open to see herself reflected in Peter's tall free-standing mirror, which stood in the corner of his room._

" _I know how you to like to see a man's hand in your pants," he told her huskily, his eyes holding hers in the glass. "I know how it turns you on, almost as much as seeing his head between your legs, your delicate hands tangled in his hair and keeping him in place until you get what you want."_

 _Tris swallowed again, hating how he knew her so well, how he was using his intimate knowledge of her and her eroticisms to get what he wanted, but most of all, hating how her body reacted to what the mirror reflected. It was true: there was something so erotic to her when her lover - any lover - delved beneath her clothing, touching her intimately, teasing her without removing an item, and Peter was using this to his advantage._

 _In the mirror, her eyes focused on his hand, which was all-but hidden by her jeans, and she moaned a little as he skimmed over her secret bundle of nerves. Her gaze wandered to his other hand, which held her breast softly but possessively and she watched him manipulate her body._

" _Stop," she said, her voice low, but in his focus on his impossible task of trying to get his lips to her breast without moving her, Peter missed it._

" _Peter," she said again, her voice stronger this time and she pulled his hand out of her jeans, realizing this was the first time she actually touched him since entering his room. "Stop."_

" _What?! Why?" Peter moaned, removing his other hand from her breast and holding his hands up._

" _This isn't right," she told his reflection in the mirror._

" _Fuck, Tris," he groaned. "Of course, it's right. You and me together is always right."_

" _Not anymore," she whispered back, finally stepping away and turning to meet his gaze._

 _Peter's eyes fell to her still exposed breast and he licked his lips. "You can't tell me you don't want this, want me. Your body tells me differently."_

 _Tris shook her head. "Just because you know how to touch me and arouse me doesn't mean I want you. I don't want you, Peter, and if this was to go any further, it wouldn't be right. I would be using you."_

 _Peter laughed, a deep full bodied sound that filled the room. "Since when has that been a problem for you? You've used me before, many times, and I'm willing for you to use me right now. Fuck, you can use me all night."_

" _I don't want you, Peter," she bit out, finally moving the material of her bra back over her breast. She couldn't believe what she'd almost done and now she just wanted to get out of the room as fast as she could._

" _There is a huge difference between wanting me and needing me," Peter shot back, anger now lacing his words. "You may not want me, but you certainly need me. You need me to fuck you so hard you forget all about what happened you. You need me to fuck you, and you need it raw and dirty to forget about that sorry-ass dick you have down the hall because he's not twisted enough to fuck you like you want it, need it, crave it."_

 _Tris felt her cheeks burning. She had long ago acknowledged she had a dark side, something she feared stemmed from her time held captive, and she fed that darkness any way she could. There were things and situations from her past she was not proud of, but she refused to regret her actions, refused to shy away from that part of herself because it was part of who she was._

 _And Peter had been a big part of that for a while. He was all too willing to fulfill her darker needs while they were together, and when she tired of him, he took the break hard. She'd found it almost laughable when he had told her he loved her and indeed had laughed in his face at his proclamation. He didn't love her, she reasoned, he loved the image of her, maybe even the power her name represented, but she was adamant he didn't love her for who she was. Who she really was._

 _Would Four be willing to fulfill those needs in her? She'd never discussed that side of her sexual desires with him, scared he wouldn't understand, but she knew she never really gave him the chance to have his say, to hear his thoughts on how far he would go for her._

 _The sound of Tris' hand against his cheek reverberated through his room as she slapped Peter hard, maybe a little too hard, to silence him._

 _Peter turned his head back to her slowly, her hand print already glowing on his cheek, his eyes darkening. He rushed at her quickly, and before she could react, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, and forcing her lips to his in a harsh kiss. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, his other tearing at the material of her bra again, savagely._

 _Tris panicked._

 _During their time together, they dabbled in violent sex, controlled but still pushing that boundary a little too much, but this, this was different and something she didn't want. For a moment, she froze under his rough hands, his forcefulness, her mind closing down at what was happening. Then a small voice within her screamed and it built until it erupted from her._

" _No!" she yelled and pushed him away from her, adding her abilities and he flew back from her, slamming into the wall behind them with a sickening thud before falling to the carpeted flooring._

" _Don't ever touch me again," she ground out, her voice dark with anger._

" _You know you'll be back. He can't give you what I give you," he sneered as he rubbed the back of his head where it had hit the wall._

" _Four is a hundred times better than you, and he gives me everything I need, want, or ask for, and he does it a thousand times better than you ever could. He has me begging him for more with just a kiss, while you..." she laughed with disgust, "you need other parts of your anatomy to keep a girl interested."_

 _She moved across the room to him, standing with her legs astride his on the floor. "You may be a good fuck, Peter, but that's all you are. Good for sex and good in a fight, but as for that thing called a personality, you have nothing."_

 _She turned to leave, heading for freedom from this man._

" _You're a fucking tease, Tris Prior," he spat out as she pulled the door open._

 _She turned back to him. "And you're a fucked-up asshole, Peter Hayes, and you are done with Dauntless."_

 _She walked through, leaving the door wide open as she turned in the hallway and headed for the east wing of the house._

She moved off the bed and over to the window, looking out over the vast estate. A few guys were out running the grounds, and she itched to be out there running, burning off her energy, fighting her frustration at the turn of events, but she had two major things to take care of before she could do that.

One was to talk to Mason about Peter being asked to leave The Dauntless. Last night he had gone a little too far, and while she acknowledged some of that was her fault, the way he had acted was not something she invited or asked for, and it was clear he had stepped over the boundaries.

The second was to talk to Four and beg him for forgiveness.

She took that thought with her as she hit the shower in the small - compared to her usual bathing space – bathroom, composing in her mind what she needed to say, debating whether to tell him what she almost had done.

She removed her sleepwear, only now recognizing it as some of her old clothing and smiled somewhat that she still fit into the clothes her 15-year-old self had worn. She twisted her hair up and clipped it to the top of her head with an old claw clip she had long forgotten about and showered quickly, only slightly amazed her old toiletries had been replaced with new bottles of old favorite brands, and she wondered who facilitated this.

After drying off, she pulled on her jeans and hunted for a t-shirt in a closet still full of clothing. She grinned as she tugged one from the rail, hot pink in color with the words 'Talk Nerdy to Me' in huge sparkly bubble writing. It fit her snugly but was fine for the walk to her room and her conversation with Four.

…

Four blinked his eyes open, the sun light streaming into the room telling him it was morning. He hardly believed he'd slept through the night, his mind immediately alert to his emotions from the night before. His gaze swept the room, landing on the pile of clothing he'd gathered before exhaustion took over. He sighed dejectedly before standing and crossing over to the bathroom to take care of the pressing need to empty his bladder.

He'd just placed his large duffle bag on the bed and started to fill it when a knock at the door interrupted him.

Tris knocked on the oak wooden door, which led to her own room, feeling unsure about just entering the space without announcing herself after the way she'd left the previous evening. Her stomach churned with her nerves and she jolted when the door was roughly opened.

Four was surprised to see her petite figure standing out in the hallway, her face a picture of apprehension and contrition.

He was instantly conflicted by his emotions. The anger he'd felt through the long night erupted again, as well as the hurt and confusion he felt at the way she had walked away from him seemingly easily. After everything she told him, screamed at him, and then to effectively throw away what they had built together was still a shock. He never expected that. But as soon as his gaze feel upon her as he opened the door, his heart melted at the sight before him before he hardened it, steeling himself against what was going to come next.

"Can we talk?" she asked timidly, finally lifting her gaze to meet his.

"Of course," he answered, his voice thick as he stumbled over the words. He coughed, clearing his throat of its dryness as he opened the door further for her, and she crossed the threshold into the room they had shared.

Her eyes instantly fell on the large bed, the focal point of the room, noting it was still made, and there was not a pillow out of place. She knew from experience he hadn't re-made the bed that morning because that was a chore they did together. If she should leave the room while he was still asleep, upon her return after work, the covers would still be a crumpled mess. She eyed the pile of clothes skeptically, his bag open, and knew he was preparing to leave the room.

She swung questioning eyes to him, and he shrugged. "I slept on the chaise. I can't sleep in that bed without you," he answered her truthfully.

"And the clothes?" she probed.

"This is your room," he answered vaguely. "I'm leaving, just like you wanted."

Tris stared at him, her mind whirling with those words and the look of resolution on his face. Her determination to reconcile with him, to apologize, slipped.

"Why did you have to keep pushing?" She asked the question that had been plaguing her most of the night. "Why couldn't you just let it be?"

"Why don't you trust me?" He countered back, the anger coursing through him again.

"I do trust you, I've told you I do, but you just couldn't let me tell you when I was ready," she argued back. She didn't want this, she didn't want to argue, she wanted to reconcile, to be back in his arms, to be loved.

"And when would that have been?" he shouted. "If you trusted me, you would have been ready. But no, you trust that…that piece of shit more than you trust me."

"That's not true."

Four sneered at her, unable to keep his emotions in check. "Isn't it? It wouldn't surprise me if you went to him last night, if you…" he stopped when watched Tris' face betray her. Her eyes lowered and a look of shame swept across her feature.

"No…Tris…No, tell me you didn't got to Peter last night. Tell me you didn't _fuck_ him." Four felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach. He hadn't really thought she'd put the nail in the coffin of their relationship so quickly.

Tris kept her eyes downcast as she whispered, "I didn't fuck him."

Four scoffed at that. "Right, so why won't you look at me?"

She lifted her gaze guiltily to meet his. "I didn't fuck him," she repeated, this time stronger.

"But you went to him?"

"I…"

Four could see everything he needed to know in her face. "For fuck's sake, Tris," he bellowed as he began to pace the space. "Why? Why him? This all started because of him!"

"I don't know," she returned with a cry of dismay. She truly didn't know why she had been so quick to try and throw everything they had together away.

"You don't know," he mocked. "Well, that's just fucking terrific." He turned to the bed and began angrily throwing his clothes into his bag.

"Four, I…" Tris' throat closed as she watched him pack. If she didn't do this right, he was going to do as she'd asked; he was really going to leave her. And she wasn't sure if she could see him every day, hear him laugh around the mansion and not touch him.

"No, you don't get to talk your way out of this Tris," he spun back to her.

She could see his fist clench tightly and could feel his anger rolling off him and she worried her lip for a minute, debating whether to continue with her practiced speech. Jack's words sprung into her mind – _You can't build a relationship on lies, Tris –_ and she swallowed nervously, knowing she needed to tell Four everything, if only he would listen. But she'd never seen him this angry before and it hurt so, so much to know she was the cause.

Four watched her and the anxiety that flickered in her eyes. "What did you do?" He asked fearfully, a hand nervously running through his hair as he took a step back from her, not wanting to know, but needing to know. He was teetering on the edge of control and he knew it.

"I didn't mean to do it. Well, I did mean to do it but I didn't expect that I would, but then I didn't, but I still let him..." she stopped and looked at him, her eyes again pleading with him to understand, to understand her.

"What?" He demanded. "What did you let him do to you?"

"I was in his room, and he had his hand..." she paused, looking up at him again and seeing the distressed look on his face and waved her hand. "Well, it doesn't matter where his hand was."

"Yes, it does!" Four's voice rose harshly, his eyes flashing with anger, jealously, and something else Tris couldn't pinpoint in that moment before he spat out. "I can imagine pretty well where his hand was, but I want you to tell me."

"Four..." she almost begged. "I didn't have sex with Peter," she repeated firmly. "We did...other things... but I didn't touch him except to push him away when I realized what was happening and what I was feeling and what I was doing, what I was throwing away."

Four turned, looking out one of the large windows as his mind whirled with what she was telling him now, and he didn't want her to see the pain in his face. He felt a mixture of disgust and pity for what Tris had done, but he was relieved she hadn't gone through with the act. If she had, he wasn't sure if would be able to overcome that. However, he didn't like hearing that Peter had his hands on her, in her.

"It wasn't right," she whispered from behind him, drawing nearer to him carefully. She felt she was approaching an angry animal, one wrong move and that would be the end. "He wasn't you, and I couldn't do it, I couldn't let him touch me the way only you touch me. I didn't want him because you are only one who can touch me like that now."

He turned quickly back to her, his eyes hard. "Well, you've thrown all that way, have you? You want me to leave so I'm leaving." He paused and looked at her square in the eye. "And I'm leaving The Dauntless as well."

"What?! No, you can't," she protested, her eyes wild now. Her stomach roiled and she thought she'd be sick. She never, ever thought he'd leave completely. Deep down, she assumed he'd be there, be ready to forgive her whenever she wanted. The idea that she might not ever see him again made her heart race with desperation and panic.

"I'm not gonna stay here and watch as you move on. I'm not gonna turn into someone like Peter either. You want me out your personal life, so that means I have to be out altogether."

"I don't want you out, Four. I don't want you to leave me," she cried.

"I don't know if I can stay, Tris, that's the problem." He breathed in deep, trying to calm his heartbeat. "You went to Peter, _Peter_!"

"Because you pushed, you couldn't just let me tell you at my own pace," she yelled back. She was crying now, fat, ugly tears that streamed down her face.

Four deflated a little because that's just what he had argued with himself about. "How can I trust you now?" He almost whispered. "How can I stay? How can I possibly trust that you won't change your mind and just run away, then come back whenever you want? I'm not that guy, Tris."

"Because there is only one person who makes my heart race, only one who can kiss me so intimately that I'm on my knees begging for more, only one I can't live without." Her voice broke with her words, and Four felt his own heart dip at the sound. He hated to hear her cry, to see her tears, but he couldn't live through another night like the one he'd just had. He loved her, wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but he couldn't, wouldn't let her treat him like he was disposable.

"I'm sorry, Tobias," she cried, her tears flowing freely down her cheeks as she shook her head from side to side. "I'm so sorry that I betrayed you like that, and I can only say, if you can see it in your heart to forgive me, it will never happen again. That I can promise you."

"It's not enough," he said hollowly. He felt strung out, exhausted, and he just couldn't take it anymore. "I have no reason to trust you." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Give me one reason to stay."

"Because I love you." Tris choked out, her voice thick with tears.

Four stared at her, shocked by her words, by the force they had left her mouth.

Tris looked almost as dazed as he did. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she watched him, watched as the anger left his eyes.

Four haltingly stepped closer and took her cheeks between his hands, stilling her as she shook with emotion. The tears still rolled down her face, and his heart swelled at this girl standing in front of him, who, despite what she had done, still had his heart all to herself.

"Say it again," he whispered.

Tris' eyes looked wildly back him, as though she could hardly believe what she had said.

"Please," he encouraged.

"I love you," she stuttered. "Please don't leave me."

A second later, Four's lips were on hers, softly caressing their plumpness the way only he could.

Four slowly pulled back from her, his heart singing so loudly he was sure she could hear it. "I love you, Tris," he stated slowly, shooting her a small smile as her eyes widened at his statement.

"You still love me?" she asked, bewildered.

Four sighed as he lowered his hands to wrap them around her, holding her close. "You hurt me," he admitted, his voice stuttering slightly, "hurt me in a way I never thought you would. Right now, I kind of hate that I love you but it's not gonna change."

"I'm sorry," Tris whispered again, her voice muffled by the material of his shirt.

"I need to know that this is not gonna happen again. That you're not gonna run off with someone else the minute you think you can't handle something."

"I won't," she vowed, squeezing him tightly to her.

Four pulled away from her so he could look her in the eye, so she could see how serious he was. "I need to be able to trust you, that's something that I'm struggling with at the moment. I need to know that you will talk to me, you won't push me out. I'm talking no alcohol, no sex, nothing until we've talked through whatever issues you are having. Can you do that for me?"

Tris nodded her head quickly, willing to agree to anything he wanted. As long as he didn't go away, didn't leave her. "Don't leave me," she pleaded. "I'll do whatever you want."

"It's for you as much as for me, Tris," Four sighed, hating to see her like this. His hand moved down her arm so he could clasp her hand, entwining their fingers, as a slow smile tugged at his lips. "Say it again."

"I love you."

…


	35. Chapter 35

Happy Wednesday!

Great response from the last chapter, again. I love how much you guys love these characters. It means more to me than you could ever know. You all know by now how personal this is for me, and for you guys to get behind it the way you have just...well, I'm having trouble getting my thoughts into words to express me gratitude, if you can believe that :)

Extra huge thanks to cjgwilliams, since I forgot to praise her last week, and the constant encouragement I receive from her. She is nothing but phenomenal and supportive - and some weeks there's a lot of support needed, trust me. This last week has been one of those weeks.

With that, I have to give a **warning** for talk about sexual violence in the last part of this chapter. If you'd prefer not to read that, stop when you see **.*.*.*.** If you would like a condensed version of what is said, PM me.

And so on with Chapter thirty-five...

* * *

Chapter 35.

It was mid-morning when Four and Tris left their room in the search for food. They had missed breakfast, but Tris convinced Greg to at least make an early lunch for them. Tris offered to do this herself and was instantly shot down by Greg's stern gaze.

So Four and Tris settled themselves into one of the smaller rooms on a large squishy couch, Tris sitting Indian style facing Four as he sat regularly. Greg had placed sandwiches of chicken and bacon, with a good handful of sliced pickles and chips, on a large plate, which was resting on the couch between them, and both were eating from it.

Their body language spoke volumes, the distance between them on the couch echoing the crack in their relationship. Tris watched Four uncertainly as he ate, wishing things were as they were a few days ago but acknowledging there needed to be a change for them, for her, to move forward.

She swallowed and then cleared her throat nervously. "I was thinking…" she started, her voice wavering slightly with her hesitation. When Four swung his curious gaze to her, she continued. "I was wondering if you wanted to come along to my next session with Jack?" She picked at her clothing as she spoke, her uncertainty of her request showing.

Four watched her as she fidgeted, not sure what she was asking. "What, like couple's therapy?" He wasn't sure about that idea. He didn't want to have to talk about their problems with a third party. He wanted to be able to work through them on their own.

"Well, no. Not exactly," she said. Tris popped a chip into her mouth, crunched for a few seconds before swallowing and continuing. "When I told you what happened to me, well, when I yelled it at you, that wasn't the right way to go about it."

"I pushed you too much," he interrupted, willing to take the blame for that.

"You did, but I understand why you did that," she accepted. "I need to earn your trust back and this is the only way I can think that will start that process."

"You can just talk to me," he stated, his eyes intent on her, willing her to understand his need for her to peel back that last layer of herself, to take down the walls that she constantly hid behind. He wanted their relationship to work.

"I know I can, and I'm trying, it's just…" she paused, struggling to find the right words and losing. "Please, come with me to a session. I'll see if Jack can fit us in today."

Part of Four bristled that she couldn't just say what she wanted to here or in their room. He had no clue what was said in the privacy of Jack's office but he knew from her agitated state after an appointment it was always something hard on her. He understood this a quite a big step for her to take, to invite him to witness that part of herself she always kept hidden.

"Okay," he finally agreed. "If you're comfortable with me being there then I will be."

Tris just nodded her head, not trusting her voice in that moment. Her anxiety levels rose as she imagined what he would hear and her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She almost changed her mind, already conjuring excuses to get out of the session, but, as her gaze flickered to Four, and the distance between them, she resigned herself to this task. She would open herself completely to him, he would learn everything, and then they would see if they would survive it.

"I also need to talk to Uncle Mason," she said after a few moments.

"Why? What's wrong?" Four asked, concerned.

Tris opened one of the sandwiches and picked at its contents, cautiously lifting a chunk of chicken to Four's lips. Once he had taken the offered food, she continued. "I want Peter out of The Dauntless."

Four chewed his food for a minute, his eyes intent on Tris as she shifted a little, obviously somewhat uncomfortable about discussing Peter with Four after what she had told him earlier. Once she finally looked at him again, he asked. "Do you have that power?"

"Maybe not," Tris shrugged. "But I don't trust him, and The Dauntless is all about trust."

Four vaguely wondered if Tris held something back in their conversion earlier that morning, especially since she mentioned the word trust. Peter had done something she wasn't happy with, something that made her lose faith in her one-time boyfriend, and he knew the one thing that would make Tris this adamant about him leaving was if Peter forced her to do something she didn't want to. In the context of what happened with the two of them last night, that something had to be sex.

"Well, I won't be sorry to see him go," Four returned.

"No," Tris smiled. "And here I thought you'd be all cut up about it."

Four snorted as he lifted another half of a sandwich to his lips, taking a large bite. "Couldn't happen to a better man," he said, his mouth full of food.

"Ewww, Four," Tris complained. "Eat, and then talk." She smiled at how easily they bantered despite the hesitancy between them.

Four gave her his patented lopsided smiled as he finished eating the food in his mouth. "I thought the whole manly man, bad boy, rough guy was what you liked."

"Yeah, but someone who knows how to eat is also very attractive," she returned. "Hey! Leave some of the food for me."

"You snooze, you lose," Four answered seriously, grabbing a hold of the last half.

Tris looked at the sandwich and then Four. Her pout was so natural she didn't realize it was there until Four sighed, handing over the bread. "God damn that pout," he grumbled, finishing off the chips instead.

…

Tris knocked cautiously on the door of her uncle's office, shifting her feet nervously as she waited for the call to enter.

She was instantly reminded of a time in high school. It was a few months after her parents' death, and she had been summoned to his office to account for her actions which caused her expulsion from school. Thankfully, that meeting had turned out just fine. Tris had always been an intelligent child, boarding on the title 'child prodigy', but, in Mason's mind, Andrew and Natalie had never pushed her enough. They hadn't forced Tris to skip grades when her school first mentioned the idea, Tris opting to remain with her friends and her parents wanting her to enjoy her childhood. So Mason took the opportunity and arranged for Tris to graduate early and enroll at Stanford University.

The call to enter sounded gruff and angry, and Tris squared her shoulders, standing as tall as she could before entering.

"Tris," Mason smiled, hoping, not for the first time, his niece couldn't see the grit of his teeth as he forced himself to be congenial. "For what do I owe the pleasure of your company this afternoon?"

"I need to talk to you about something regarding The Dauntless, Uncle Mason," she said as she walked fully into the room. She smiled and nodded her greeting to Edward, Mason's personal assistant who was constantly in his presence.

Mason relaxed back in his chair, resting his chin against his steepled fingers as his eyebrow lifting in a way that told her to continue.

"You know I've never asked for preferential treatment here," she started, "I just like to be treated as any other agent."

Mason nodded his head at her statement.

"But last night, there was an incident, and I want, no, I need something to be done."

"Does this have something to do with the arguments between your boyfriend and your ex-boyfriend?" Mason asked, and Tris could hear the disgust dripping from her uncle's voice. She knew he was less than happy with the way she viewed sex and that he wished she lead a more celibate existence.

"Peter said some pretty awful things about me, Uncle Mason," she answered, hurt by the scorn in his voice when he didn't know the full situation.

"Peter was angry, Tris," her uncle began. "You know how he was when you started dating Vladimir. He doesn't handle your rejection well. And you and Four are pretty hot and heavy."

Tris couldn't believe her uncle was siding with Peter. "Uncle Mason, he said I was fucked up in the head," Tris spat out and gloated inwardly as her uncle bristled at her words. He hated when she used the _F_ word.

"You do have issues, Tris," Mason replied simply.

Tris opened her mouth to reply but closed it quickly. Yes, she had issues, she knew this, but she didn't need people like Peter Hayes throwing it back in her face, especially to use it to his advantage to get what he wanted out of her. And Mason's lack of support stung. She knew her uncle didn't always approve of her choices but she wanted, no, she needed him to be in her corner.

She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before saying, "Things got a little out of hand, Uncle Mason, and Peter went a little too far and... and I want Peter out of Dauntless." _There. She'd said it._

"Tris," Mason started, as though talking to a child. "I can't just kick someone out of Dauntless because you had a disagreement with him."

"Well, I'm sorry, but if you don't let him go, I will go," she threatened, her disgust with her uncle's easy dismissal over the Peter situation apparent in her voice. "It's him or me, Uncle Mason. I can't stay here with him."

Mason looked over the young woman sitting defiantly opposite him, amazed she would even consider asking him to let go of a top agent. Nobody had ever been asked to leave The Dauntless before. Yes, there were rare occasions when an employee had asked to leave for their own reasons, most notably Marcus Eaton, but Mason could scarcely believe this young slip of a girl was asking, no, demanding he force Peter out of their establishment. He fumed a little that she would dare to ask this of him, as if she had some control over what did or didn't happen within his organization. It was bad enough he had to put up with her in the office, and now this...he suddenly sat forward in his chair, her words finally processing. "What do you mean, _things got a little out of hand?"_

"Well, I was in his room, and we were kinda fooling around..." Tris started, feeling somewhat uneasy talking about it with her uncle.

"Stop!" Mason instructed holding his hand up. "I thought you were dating the new guy."

"I am," Tris agreed. "But last night, I wasn't."

"So you thought you'd go and open your legs for your ex?" He asked harshly. He was beginning to think Tris' reckless behavior was going to destroy the organization he'd worked so hard to build.

"It wasn't like that," Tris insisted. "Well, it may have been for, like, a nanosecond, but I said no. I didn't want to have sex with him, and he didn't listen."

Mason stood abruptly, his chair moving backwards with the force of his standing. "What?! Did he try to rape you? Is that what you are saying?" He couldn't believe Peter would be so stupid as to try and rape her. She might be a thorn in his side but Mason had to maintain some form of familial regard for the girl. Until all players were in place, of course.

"Let's just say if I had been someone without considerable strength, last night would have turned out a lot nastier than it actually did."

Mason's eyes seemed to soften, his vision clouded as he remembered Tris from eight years ago, just after she had been found by her friend and his father. Beaten, slashed, and abused to within an inch of her life.

He dropped back into his chair. "It won't be easy, Tris. He knows too much about what we do here."

"Then make it easy. Offer him money. Shit, Uncle Mason, use my money if you want, but believe me, if he stays, then I walk."

Mason looked his niece in the eye, the determination of her mother shining through. He knew she wasn't bluffing. She would leave, and he had no doubt if she went, then half of his agents would walk with her. _Damn Peter Hayes_ , he thought.

"What if it had been someone else, Uncle Mason? Someone who can't protect themselves? Would you stand for it then?"

"No," Mason answered. "No, and I won't stand for it now. Not with my niece."

Tris smiled a little, knowing she had won this battle as Mason turned to Edward and asked him to arrange a meeting with Peter.

"Thank you, Uncle Mason," she said, moving around the desk to hug him across his shoulders. Mason tensed a little at her touch. This was Natalie's influence in his brother's family. They had always been a little too touchy feely for his liking, but he accepted Tris's hug and patted her hand.

"Tris," he started seriously when she released him. "The next time you cut a guy loose, please don't make this mistake again."

Tris grinned. "Not gonna happen, Uncle Mason. Four is a good guy, and I'm gonna keep him as long as I can."

Mason actually lifted a brow to her comment, but he let it slide as she waltzed from the room.

Tris moved down the corridor in search of Four. She couldn't wait to tell him the good news, and in her haste she bumped into Caleb.

"Hey, Tink. Watch where you're going."

"Sorry, Caleb," she giggled. "I just need to find Four."

"Four! I thought you guys broke up. Rumor has it you got it on with Peter last night," Caleb smirked, amused that his sister always managed to make a mess of her sex life.

"Well, the rumor mill is a little behind," she shot back annoyed. "First of all, there was definitely no 'getting it on' with Peter, and second, Four and I are very much together."

"Really, it's just that Will said..." her brother started but she cut him off.

"Will needs to learn to keep his trap shut," she huffed. "Yes, mistakes _may_ have been made, and yes, I _may_ have left Will's room to go with Peter but..."

"Wait a minute," Caleb stopped her, his hands on her shoulders. "Why were you in Will's room? I mean Will Lawson, right? Please don't tell me you..."

"Did you not just hear me say Four and I were very much together?"

"So why were you going to Peter's room then?"

"Okay, so at that moment Four and I were apart, but the thing is, nothing happened."

"Right," Caleb said, his tone conveying he didn't believe her.

"Caleb, it's complicated. Okay?" She sighed.

"Fine," Caleb conceded. "So why were you in the boss' office?"

Tris looked Caleb in the eye. "I asked him to let Peter go."

"Shit," Caleb exclaimed. "No. Really?"

"Absolutely. Peter went a step too far last night. I don't want to work with him," Tris vaguely explained.

"And Uncle Mason just agreed with this?" Caleb asked, astounded.

"Well, no. I threatened to leave if he didn't," she answered shyly.

"Fuck, Tris. You didn't." At her insistent nod, Caleb sighed. "What would you have done if he didn't agree?"

Tris shrugged. "Leave."

"Well, little sis, you've certainly got balls. That's all I can say."

Tris laughed. "God, I hope not. Though I guess the phrase – _Go fuck yourself_ \- would be interesting if I did."

"I said balls, Tris, not a dick," Caleb smiled. Only Tris could come to that conclusion.

"Isn't one always attached to the other?" She asked with a raised brow.

"Touché, Master," Caleb acknowledged with his hand on his heart and with a slight bow.

Tris smiled. "Oh and I wouldn't go to Uncle Mason's office just yet. He's a little pissed at the moment."

"Understood. I think I wait a couple of hours," Caleb said as they both set off back down the corridor, Caleb wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they walked.

…

Sometime later, and Caleb paced his uncle's office, hating that the old man was keeping him waiting, as if to remind the younger Prior who was in charge, who pulled the strings and called the shots. And Caleb knew part of that was because of the ultimatum Tris had delivered earlier that day.

Caleb had always known it would eventually come to a showdown like this between Peter and Tris. They were too alike. Both bold, expressive, and used to getting what they wanted. Now, what Tris wanted most was Peter out of her life and out of The Dauntless completely, and Caleb was inclined to side with her. He felt Peter returned from his last mission a little darker, a little on edge and mysterious, as though he had something to hide. He made a note to have a serious talk with Matthew regarding what had happened on their last assignment, but he hadn't had the opportunity to speak with the tech-wiz about it yet.

Now, he had his own reasons for wanting to speak with the boss, though it still concerned Tris. Or more specifically, Four and Tris.

After observing the two in action during the fight with D'Angelo's men, and from watching them in training, he was about the make the biggest sacrifice in his life. He felt they, and The Dauntless, would greatly benefit if Tris partnered Four instead of him. He hated the fact Four was fast becoming an outstanding agent, and that he and Tris worked so well together, but he was man enough to recognize that.

He wasn't sure what riled him the most: that he was losing his lifelong sidekick and partner in mischief to Four in life, or that he was losing the only working partner he had known and the only one he truly trusted within The Dauntless to Four as well. Whichever way he looked at it, he was losing Tris.

He knew she would eventually find someone who she could love the way she obviously loved Four, even if she wasn't ready to admit that to herself, never mind anyone else. He just figured he had a couple more years before that happened. He also admitted to himself he was a little jealous that his little sister had found someone like Four, someone who was her everything, and he was still searching.

He stopped pacing and stood in front of a mahogany bureau, the top shelf littered with family pictures, and his hand reached for one showing a family portrait of the Prior family.

In the center was Grandpa and Grandma Deluca, Grammie sitting regally on an elegant, cream-colored upholstered Queen Anne chair. Grandpa stood proudly behind her, one hand in the pocket of his jacket, the other resting on Grammie's shoulder. To one side stood, Andrew Prior, equally as proud as his father, with Natalie by his side, her smile full and light. In front of them stood a somewhat surly 9-year-old Tris, dressed in a pale pink dress that was all frills, her blonde curls spiraling downwards wildly and a pink ribbon in her hair. And though her smile was angelic, Caleb knew how she really felt about that dress and the way she had stomped on it as soon as she had been allowed to change clothes. By her side was the 12-year-old version of himself. He was just starting to grow into his long limbs and looked awkward in his stance. His smiling face showed his braces and his hair was also a mass of blond curls. He remembered feeling proud to be wearing a suit almost identical to his fathers and that showed with the glint in his eye.

On the other side of Grandpa stood his uncle, Mason Prior. He was the physical complete opposite of Andrew, his hair several shades darker and his face expressionless. By his side was his wife, Patrice. She was a formidable woman, her stature tall and rigid, her mousy brown hair was drawn tightly into a chignon at the back of her head. Patrice had died of what many called a broken heart a few years after this portrait had been taken. She had proved too many times unable to carry a baby to term, and after the fifth miscarriage, she had simply given up.

Henry Prior, still unmarried, stood awkwardly to the side of the photo, a physical space between him and the rest of the family. His gaze was almost longing, watching the next generation of the family, and Caleb often wondered about his uncle. What was on his mind that gave him such a wistful look?

In Caleb's eye's, Uncle Harry was the best uncle in the world, and he knew Tris felt the same. In the past, he was the one they asked for money when their parents wouldn't give them any. He was the one Caleb went to for advice about girls. He was the one who took over the role of father for Tris after their father had been brutally murdered.

The death of his brother had hit him hard, as it did the rest of the family, but for a while, it looked like Henry was losing his grip on life. Tris brought him out of that with her determination to carry on, to survive the horrors she had been through, and in a world of Prior men, she shined as brightly then as she did today.

The door to the large office opened abruptly, and Mason stalked into the room.

"I don't like being summoned, Caleb," he bellowed as he rounded his desk and sank into the cushioned chair behind it.

"I didn't summon you, Uncle Mason," Caleb returned the frame to the bureau top before turning to face him. "I asked to speak with you about something important."

"Ok, so talk away," Mason instructed, with a wave of his hand.

"It's about Tris," Caleb started, and he paused when he saw a tiny movement at the edge of his uncle's eye. It was a nervous habit he had when something irritated him, and for a moment, this puzzled Caleb. Then just as quickly as it happened, it was gone, and his uncle was looking at him expectantly.

"She's already been to see me about Peter," Mason huffed. "How that girl gets herself into this trouble and then expects me to bail her out is beyond me."

"When have you ever had to bail Tris out of shit?" Caleb asked, his eyes wide at his uncle's comment. Unless there was something he didn't know, he wondered if Mason was being melodramatic, which would be very unlike him. "Tris usually deals with her problems herself. But because this concerns The Dauntless, she came to you."

"Please," Mason scoffed. "If she'd just keep her legs closed, she wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. I told her the same thing when she was sixteen, but would she listen? No."

"Tris listens to one person and one person only," Caleb smiled. "Herself." While he didn't completely agree with Tris' lifestyle and her attitude to sex, he knew better than to try and tell her how to live her life. She always made sure she was careful and stayed healthy, and as long as she wasn't in any danger, who was he to dictate how she lived. Besides, he'd tried it once and his ears still sometimes rang from the blistering way she'd _politely_ told him to stay out of her business.

He watched as again the elder Prior huffed at his response, and the curiosity got the better of him. After all, nobody had ever been asked to leave Dauntless before the way Tris was insisting for Peter to be. "So, what are you gonna do with the situation?" He asked. "Is Peter being forced out?"

Mason sighed deeply. "Peter will be asked to leave The Dauntless and given a hefty monetary incentive to go so that he will never mention anything, not breathe a word about our organization."

"Do you think that will be enough?" Caleb asked. "I mean, Peter's been here for a while. This is his family, his home."

"He doesn't have a choice. He tried to force something on a member of this organization they didn't want." Mason conceded. "No matter what happened before between them, no means no, and he crossed that line, and I won't tolerate that, not with any person who works here and certainly not with Tris."

Mason slammed his hand down on his desk. "Damn that boy. He was a good agent, but he went too far with her, and he knows what she went through, what that bastard did to her."

Caleb's anger rose at his uncle's words. He didn't know that had happened. All that he knew was Peter better leave before he found the older agent because he might kill him himself.

"So," Mason's voice interrupted his inner threats. "What do you need to talk about Tris for?"

Caleb looked at his uncle before he swallowed nervously. "Uncle Mason, I'm sure you have seen Tris and Four during their training sessions."

Mason nodded. Yes, he had taken an interest in their training. Tris' abilities seemed to be growing daily, and she was becoming stronger, far exceeding what any of the trainers, or he, could have imagined. And when Four joined her and they combined their abilities, they were formidable. Mason would never admit it, but the strength they shared, the ease in which they moved together, synchronizing perfectly with each other, it scared him. The power oozed from them, and he only hoped he would never be on the receiving end of that.

"Well, I have, too," Caleb continued, oblivious of his uncle's thoughts. "And I've also seen them in action, seriously, out on a mission. The way they move together, it's a thing of beauty."

"And..." Mason encouraged his only nephew to continue on his train of thought.

"And I think it's time the team of Prior and Prior split."

Mason was shocked at what Caleb was suggesting.

"It's not that I don't like working with Tris," Caleb continued. "Because I do. Granted, she's a pain to work with, she's the most opinionated, argumentative agent here. And she's never armed, uses my guns and _'forgets'_ to return them. I don't trust anyone like I trust her but, I think it's time to try out Prior and Eaton."

"That's not your decision to make, Caleb," Mason said, trying to keep his voice calm. _Another Prior child trying to tell him how to run_ his _organization,_ he fumed in thought.

"I know," Caleb consented. "But I've talk this through with Max and Amar, and they both agree with me."

Mason bristled a little over the fact Caleb had discussed this with other workers in The Dauntless before coming to him with his idea. Now his hands were tied.

"I do agree with you. They do work well together, but I'm not sure having them team up is the best idea. They are sleeping together, despite the fact The Dauntless discourages that sort of behavior."

"They were fucking before Four joined us," Caleb clarified, and Mason grimaced at his choice of words.

"Uncle Mason," Caleb fought on. "Trust me on this. Tris and Four are awesome together. You think The Dauntless has a good track record so far, but put them together, and no one while be able to stop them."

Mason clenched his jaw at Caleb's words, and Caleb caught the movement, storing it away to dissect at a later date.

"And you are willing to team up with Zeke?" Mason asked.

"Zeke is a good agent. He's excellent with his weaponry. I think we should work out well."

Mason studied the young man in front of him for a moment. Caleb must really believe this was right, because he was usually very possessive of his sister, wanting to keep her close and make sure she was okay and well taken care of. If he was suggesting this, he must really trust Four, because it meant he was trusting him with what Caleb considered the most precious thing in the world: Tris.

Mason nodded. "I'll discuss this with Amar and Max."

Caleb sighed, knowing they would agree, and he would lose his partner. He stood, glad the meeting was now over, and headed for the door.

"Caleb," Mason called, and Caleb turned back to his boss and uncle. "It's a good thing you have done, thinking about The Dauntless before your own needs. It shows signs of a true leader."

Caleb beamed at that, happy to have impressed his uncle without trying.

…

"So that's it? I'm out because Tris says so?" Peter ground out as he faced Mason Prior in his overlarge office later that day.

"Because you tried to rape a member of Dauntless," Mason answered coldly, narrowing his eyes at the agent sitting across from him. "And not just any member, but Tris."

"Rape," Peter huffed. "She wanted it as much as I did."

"Did she say no?" Mason queried.

"She certainly didn't say no when I had my hand down her pants," Peter grinned.

"That's my niece you are talking about, and I would appreciate it if you didn't speak about her like that," Mason shot back to him, anger spilling through his tone.

"Mason, we both know what Tris is like. She likes it," Peter countered. "She's a sensual person and really likes to get down and dirty."

"Enough, Peter," Mason bellowed, cutting the agent off. "The fact is you tried to take it further, she said no, and you continued anyway."

"She said no because her feelings for cop boy were getting in the way."

"But she said no. You know what she went through, and yet you still..." Mason trailed off, not wanting to say it again. He looked at Peter and sighed. "You are a good agent, Peter, an excellent agent. But you have to leave."

"I knew it!" Peter exclaimed. "I knew you were ruled by her, as well. Fucking bitch."

Mason watched as Peter paced the area in front of his desk, the young man wishing every ill he could think on Tris, on Four, and their unborn children.

"You hate her that much?" Mason asked when he paused.

Peter looked at the older man and sank into a plush chair in front of him. "No, I love her. I can't stop. I hate that I can't have her."

Mason nodded as if he understood what this man was going through. "I have a proposition for you, Peter," he finally said.

Peter looked up, his green eyes puzzled. "What?"

"You leave here, you will no longer be part of The Dauntless. You leave Chicago altogether, but..." Mason paused, as if momentarily undecided before he continued. "You will still receive money from The Dauntless, you will have a place to live, and you never say anything to anyone about The Dauntless, or about what we do here."

"What's in it for you?" Peter asked, confused by the offer.

"There may be a time I need you to do something, something I wouldn't trust another to do. And who knows? What I ask may just help you win Tris back."

Peter thought about this, even more puzzled over Mason's offer, but the thoughts of Tris, of being with Tris in the end, won out.

"Okay," he answered. "Where am I to go?"

In the corner of the room Edward took notes while Mason continued to talk to Peter. Goosebumps prickling his arms, and the hairs standing straight on the back of his neck as he listened to his boss lay out his plan for Peter. It was times like these that he hated his job.

 **.*.*.*.**

Tris found herself sitting nervously beside Four on the large couch in Jack's office way before she felt ready. She'd explained to Jack the need for the session, giving him a brief explanation of the events the evening before and the conversation she had with Four, but had failed to inform the psychiatrist that Four would be joining them. Jack had cast questioning eyes over her as they stood before him in the doorway to his office before allowing them entry.

Now, she again wished she hadn't offered this to Four and immediately hated herself for that thought. He needed this, and she guessed, she did as well.

Jack's gaze flicked between both agents sitting before him. He could feel the tension in Tris and the uncertainty in Four. In that moment he was proud of Tris, pleased she had taken this step and wondered if Four realized just how monumental it was.

Jack smiled at her before he asked. "Why did you want Four to join us today?"

Tris inhaled deeply as she glanced at Four before she turned back to Jack. "Because it's time to stop hiding," she breathed out.

"Hiding?" Jack asked.

Tris fidgeted, unnerved by the conversation she was about to have. "He needs to know everything; I need to tell him what happened."

"Is this about what he wants, or about what you need?" Jack countered.

"Both, I guess," Tris reasoned. "We can't go on with half-truths."

"Okay," Jack smiled. "Why here? Why during a session?"

Tris turned her head to the large window, her gaze searching through the glass, anything to not look at either of the men in the room. She could feel the panic start within her, the urge to run, to hide, to do anything but talk about what had happened. "Because I need to feel like I have some control in this situation," she eventually said, her voice low.

"Being here gives you some control?" Jack asked curiously.

"In a way," she answered, turning her face back to him.

Jack shifted his eyes to Four before they twitched back to Tris just as quickly. Four looked strained, his body tight with apprehension and nerves. He seemed somewhat uncomfortable, almost frightened, about being there. And Tris mirrored his posture.

"Are you scared of Four?" Jack asked, knowing the answer but needing to ask to lead to further questions. "Scared he might hurt you?"

"No!" Tris rushed out quickly. "Not at all."

"Then why here? Why with me present?" Jack probed.

"Because…" she faltered. She didn't want to hurt Four, she'd done that enough for a lifetime already, but she knew her next words would wound him. "Because as much as he wants to know what happened, I don't want to tell him…"

"Why?" Four shot out, his voice angry. She was doing it again, not being honest, holding things back, despite everything she had said.

Tris turned her head to him. "I don't want to tell you, but I will, because that's what you want, what you need. And if we had this conversation in our room, I was concerned I would run, would find a way to not go through with it."

"Why don't you want me to know?" he ground out, unable to keep his temper in check.

"Because it's hard, Four," she said, her voice so low he could hardly hear her. "No matter how much you say you love me, how nothing will change, there's a part of me that thinks it will."

She stopped when Four opened his mouth to say something. "Just let me get this out, okay?" At his nod, she took a deep breath before continuing. "You can't understand how difficult it is to talk about… about rape with your boyfriend, with someone you're intimate with on a regular basis. I know you say it won't change anything, and to a degree it hasn't, but there is always gonna be some part of me that is scared you won't want a physical relationship with me when you know all the details, with someone who …" she struggled with her words, "who was used." She shuddered slightly. "I feel dirty, still, even after eight years and I can't help but worry you will feel the same."

Jack watched as emotions flickered across Four's face. He could see Four was angry, angry at Tris' continuing battle to let him completely in, but Jack could not be prouder of Tris at her words. She had actually said the word rape with only a slight hesitation and that was monumental for her. He didn't think Four could understand just how far she had come over the last couple of months and that was partially down to him. To his love and acceptance of her.

"Tris," Jack interrupted her. "Can I tell Four something from our past sessions? Something that I think may help him understand a little better?"

Tris nodded her head though her heartrate increased, wondering what he was going to reveal.

Jack turned to Four. "Four, this must be hard for you, to half understand what Tris has been through. And frustrating for you was well, with her reluctance to divulge what you can only speculate. What you are imagining can hardly be worse than the truth, right?" At Four's nod, Jack continued. "And now, for her to want to talk about it here, in my presence, that must hurt? That she feels she needs this to have some kind of control over the situation?"

Again Four could only acknowledge what Jack was saying, as his gaze fell upon Tris.

"Well, I can say, without a doubt, that I'm proud of Tris. She's here, trying to do what you want her to do, instead of drowning her sorrows in alcohol and moving on the next thing. And more than that," here Jack paused, his eyes switching to Tris and he smiled gently, "She said it, with almost no hesitation."

"Said what?" Four asked, curiosity furrowing his brow.

Tris brushed at the lone tear that had escaped before she answered. "Rape."

Jack nodded before turning back to Four. "She has only ever said that word once before and only recently. This is a huge achievement for her, more than you or I can comprehend."

Four looked back at Tris with curious wonder in his eyes. Jack was right, it was just a word to him, an ugly one, yes, but still just a word. But it was so much more to her, for someone who had been through that. He reached across the space on the couch that separated them and clasped at her hand, entwining their fingers and squeezing, hoping to show in that simply gesture how proud he was of her as well.

Another tear fell on to her cheek as Four held on to her hand tightly. "I was raped," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was raped every day, sometimes more than once a day, for eight days, in every way you've imagined and more. I was tied to the legs of the table, both on the floor and on the surface, with rope or with tape, whatever he could find, or he would just hold me down with his hands. He would cut me and smear the blood over every part of my body and then lick it off, even between my legs. Sometimes he would pour alcohol on the cuts to make them burn, anything to make me scream."

She took in a deep breath, the tears flowing silently as she continued. "He almost strangled me more than once while he was raping me, and I wanted to die. I wanted it to end. I had watched my parents die, I didn't know where Caleb was, and I was in so much pain that I wanted him to kill me, I begged him to kill me, but he just laughed and said he wasn't finished with me yet. It hurt, every day it hurt and I was broken. I couldn't fight back anymore and I let him do that to me, I let him put his dick wherever he wanted to. To use me like a whore. I was ashamed and degraded and…" she shuddered at the memory, "that hasn't changed. I still feel like that and I don't want to. I want nothing more than to be the person you want me to be. To be worthy of your love. I love you, Tobias, more than I ever thought would be possible and I want to be everything for you, I'm just scared I can't be because of what he did to me."

Four swallowed, his mouth dry, overwhelmed by her words, and his heart breaking for her. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to rip the throat out of the man who had done this to her, to make him feel everything he had forced on her. The need for vengeance surged through him, his blood pulsing with a loathing he'd never felt before. Not even for his father.

He lifted a shaky hand and wiped at the tears staining her cheeks. "You are not dirty, you are loved," he croaked, his voice betraying his emotions. "There is nothing for you to be ashamed of. It was an impossible situation, one that you survived despite everything. That makes you nothing but strong."

Silence filled the room while Tris struggled to digest his words. She wanted to believe him but there was a small part of her that argued with herself. _He'll never touch like before. I'll never see that look of pure worship from him again._

"What are you thinking, Tris?" Jack asked after a few moments, and Tris almost groaned at his ability to read her so well.

"I'm scared," she whispered, refusing to meet Four eyes.

"What of?" Jack probed.

She fidgeted again in her seat, not wanting to say what was on her mind, but needed to deal with her thoughts. "I'm scared Four won't want me anymore, you know, sexually, intimately."

"And that's important to you?"

"Of course it is," she said, almost harshly.

Jack smirked a little at her comment before addressing Four. "Do you want to answer her?"

"I can't believe you would think that," Four said simply. "You're beautiful, inside and out, how could I not want you, to touch you, to make love to you."

"But, with everything he did…"

"Tris, with other partners, have you felt this way? That once they knew everything, they wouldn't want you?" Jack interrupted her. He was loathed to bring up Peter, not with her betrayal so fresh in their minds.

"No," she answered after a while and Four frowned at her response.

"Why?" Jacked asked.

"Because they didn't mean anything, they were just…distractions," she answered as honestly as she could. "With Four it's different."

"Why?" Jack pushed.

Tris bristled for a moment, wishing he'd quit it with his _why's._ "Because I love him."

Jack turned back to Four, a smile on his face and an eyebrow raised as if to say – _answer that! Reassure her!_

Four inhaled deeply before replying. "Whatever he did to you, however he touched you, controlled you, forced you to submit to him, that will never change how I feel about you. I love everything about you, including those scars, because they are part of you. I will never tire of wanting to touch you, to love you. Nothing will take that away. And I will endeavor, every day, to never let you forget that. I know things aren't perfect between us at the moment, but I still love you. And we will work together to get back to where we were and move forward from there."

"He took away my control," Tris sobbed, "that's why I push so hard to keep it now."

"I know," Four said, completely unaware of the tear that fell from his own eyes. "I'm sorry I pushed you so hard to tell me."

"I understand why you did." She accepted that. "How can you trust someone who isn't honest with you?"

"I just want you to heal. I want to help you do that, but you had to be truthful with me. How can I help if I didn't know everything?"

She gave him a thin, watery smile. "You help me every day, Tobias. By being there when I wake up and falling asleep beside me at night."

Jack smiled at them both. "I want you to try something," he said after a moment. "I know sex is important to you both and I understand why. It's a great way to communicate within a relationship, to express your feelings without words. So, I want you, Tris, to give up some of your control. Let Four control you, however you both feel comfortable."

Tris flinched a little at his suggestion. _Could she do that? Could she let Four have free rein over her?_

Jack noticed the doubt in her eyes. "Establish a safe word before you start and if it's too much, that's your out."

She looked back Four, noticing the tears on his cheeks and lifted her hand to wipe them away, just has he had done. "Okay," she said. "I can do that."

Four smiled before leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.

…


	36. Chapter 36

Happy Wednesday Everyone!

I'm so sorry I missed an update last week. It factored down to numerous things and time just got away from me and, although the chapter was fundamentally done, it needed some tweaking. I know this weeks chapter is shorter than what I usually post but my muse took a vacation and I couldn't find the words. You'll be glad to know that all is back on track again and next week we'll be back to your regular chapter lengths.

To those of you who sent pm with concerns about my lack of posting, the fact you care enough to take the time to message me to ensure all is well means more to me than you could ever imagine. I don't think anyone could have kind, more caring readers. Hugs and Kisses to you all.

Special thanks to my beta, cjgwilliams, who's had an incredibly hectic work week, and weekend. Please know how much I appreciate your precious time, time that could be spent catching up on some much needed sleep. You are beyond fantastic.

There were a couple of reviews that I can't answer to personally because their PM is disabled, so to those who've left a review and I didn't response to, thanks for your reviews. I'm glad you are still enjoying the story.

And so on to this chapter...

* * *

Chapter 36

Tris and Four walked side-by-side down the corridor after leaving Jack's office, Tris' eyes every so often, flickering to Fours, unable to read him and gauge how he was processing what he had heard. There was a noticeable distance between them as they moved. Tris felt that distance to be as wide as an ocean and only hoped they could find their way back to each other soon.

She gave a start when she felt Four's little finger brush against her hand, it's caress tentative and sure, and exhaled gratefully when his palm slid across hers, their fingers entwining again. She didn't think he could ever understand how safe she felt with just his hand holding hers. She was aware there was still a hesitation from him, like a fear; he was afraid she would just hurt him again. She just hoped he saw how much it had taken for her to let him into her therapy session, to hear the ugly truth, something she always tried so much to keep buried deep inside her.

They entered the dining room, neither with much of an appetite but both aware they needed a meal. After collecting their food from the buffet-style carts they headed to a private table, Tris all too aware of the many eyes following them and she briefly wondered how many of The Dauntless knew what had happened the previous evening.

She watched as Four half-heartedly tucked into his meatloaf and mashed potatoes and she distractedly pushed her grilled chicken around her plate. She felt drained and exhausted, like her emotions had taken a turn in a tumble dryer and knew he felt just as washed out as she did.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked, quietly.

"I'm exhausted," she admitted.

He nodded his head in understanding. It had been a long day for the both of them, with little sleep the night before.

"So," she started. "About what Jack suggested. Is that something you want to try?"

"What? Taking control during sex?" He asked, still unsure of how she felt about this.

Tris nodded shyly. "I meant it when I said I would try, ya know. If that's what you want to do: to control me, dominate me."

Four exhaled softly as he placed his fork against his plate. "It's not about dominating you, Tris, it's about helping you overcome the horrors you've experienced. It's about you being willing to trust me with your body."

"And controlling me during sex will do that?" She asked, her voice waveringly slightly as the nervousness inside her rose.

"I don't know, Tris, but I'm willing to try if you are," Four told her sincerely.

"Honestly, the thought scares the hell out of me," she admitted. "But I know you won't hurt me and you'll stop if I ask. I trust you."

Four flashed her a half smile. "So, have you picked a safe word?"

She shook her head before spearing a piece of chicken. "I'll think of something," she said a slight smirk pulling at her lips. As he shook his head, his smile growing, her heart fluttered. They would make it, she was becoming more and more sure about it.

She turned her head as she lifted her glass of iced tea and saw Tori sitting with Marlene at a table across the room. She winced as she remembered the distraught look Tori had when she followed Peter into his room. "I need to talk to Tori," she said absentmindedly.

"Okay," Four answered around a mouthful of food. She moved to stand and Four stopped her. "Now?"

"Now's as good a time as ever," she returned.

Four pointed to her food with his knife. "Finish your dinner first, Tris. You've hardly eaten a thing all day."

"That's because you ate my half at lunch," she moaned good naturedly as she settled back into her seat.

After they finished eating, they returned their dinnerware to the appropriate section of the hall and moved to the side slightly. "Why don't you head on up," Tris suggested. "I'm just gonna have a quick word with Tori."

"Okay," Four agreed. They looked awkwardly at each other for a moment, before Four leaned forward and tenderly kissed her lips. "Don't be long."

She watched him leave. "I won't," she whispered.

She moved over to the table were Tori was chatting with Marlene, both plates empty before them as the pair lingered. She cleared her throat. "Tori, do you have a minute?"

"Of course," Tori smiled to her, before saying to Marlene as she stood. "We'll finish this later."

Tris narrowed her eyes at Marlene. "What's going on?"

"Nothing that can't wait," Marlene said cryptically. "We'll talk later."

"Okay," Tris acknowledged cautiously, suddenly realizing just how out of touch she'd become with her friends. With all the drama in her life right now, she'd neglected them and she made a silent vow to correct that. She turned and followed Tori out of the dining room.

"I just wanted to apologize for yesterday," Tris said as they walked down the hallway. "For not listening to you when I should have."

Tori cast a gaze over to her friend, a reluctant smile pulling at her lips as she directed Tris into an empty room.

"I was really worried about you but things seem to have worked out with you and Four," Tori probed.

"In a strained way," Tris admitted.

"Can I ask what happened? Did you sleep with Peter?" Tori asked as she lowered herself onto a couch.

"I didn't have sex with Peter, but I made some mistakes," Tris told her.

"And Four forgave you?"

"Not completely, but we're working on it." Tris exhaled wearily. "I hurt him and I think I've lost his faith in me. He doesn't completely trust me anymore but I'm working on getting that back." Tris watched as Tori processed what she had said, as she bit her lip before continuing. "I took him to a therapy session with Jack, and I told him everything."

Tori's mouth stretched into a wide smile. "Oh, Tris. That's huge step."

Tris nodded. "I should have told him sooner," she admitted, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

"You weren't ready," Tori said sympathetically.

"I still wasn't ready. But I don't think I would ever have been ready." Tris sighed. "I feel awful, Tori."

"Why?"

"Because…because a part of me resents the pressure he put onto me to tell him everything. I love him, I didn't want him to know, I didn't want him to have a reason to hate me."

"Yet you almost slept with Peter," Tori reasoned.

"I wouldn't have had sex with Peter," Tris huffed. "I love Four."

"But you willingly went into his room after I begged you not to do something stupid," Tori reasoned. She wanted to make sure Tris understood just how bad her judgment was that night.

"Yes, and I've said I'm sorry. Do you want me to say it again?" Tris couldn't hide her irritability at being reminded once again of her mistake but when Tori snapped her head back slightly at the bite in her words, Tris sighed again.

"I'm sorry, Tori. I'm tried and cranky," Tris explained. "But, I am sorry. Sorry I didn't listen to you when you tried to steer me in the right direction. And you were right, I almost made the biggest mistake of my life." Tris grabbed Tori's hands as she plopped down onto the couch beside her. "I can't promise I will always take your advice, but I can promise I will make a more conscious effect to listen to you, really listen to you."

Tori smiled at Tris. "You're gonna be all right, Tris. You and Four will make it. I know it."

"I'm certainly not giving him up without a fight."

…

Four was standing before one of the large windows when she entered their room, his gaze trained on the grounds behind the great house.

"I forgot to tell you," Tris said in greeting as Four turned to her. "Uncle Mason agreed to let Peter go."

"Peter's out?" He asked skeptically.

"Yep," Tris answered with a punctuating nod of her head. "I had to threaten to leave if he didn't agree, though."

Four's brow furrowed slightly, wondering what kind of man would willing let a man stay within The Dauntless when he proved to be so volatile. Especially against his own niece. "Like I said," Four smiled to her, "I won't be sorry to see him gone."

"Me neither," Tris agreed as she stepped closer, tentatively, as though she was expecting him to reject her. He smiled as he opened his arms and Tris closed the distance that separated them. She curled into his embrace, deeply inhaling his scent.

Four held her head to him, content to have her in his arms, the warmth and curves of her body calling out to him, enticing him as always. "Thank you," he said, his voice cracking slightly with emotion.

"What for?" she mumbled against his chest.

"For telling me everything. For trusting me with that." He inched back from her and she tensed a little, but he smiled as he gently pressed his lips against hers, a hand grazing her hip reassuringly. "I don't know if you realize just how much it means to me."

Tris lifted his hand from her and kissed his palm before bringing it to her cheek. She rubbed his hand against her soft skin, smiling up at him at the roughness of his hand against her cheek.

He kissed her again, just as slowly, softly. She opened her mouth, pulling his tongue into its warmth so he could lick and tease the inside with strokes that made her whole body tremble with need and want for him.

When they pulled apart, she smiled at him. "We should stop, before things get to where we can't stop."

"Why?"

"Because you need to trust me. You said no alcohol or sex to distract from what's happening in our lives," she explained.

"What if I want to initiate sex?" he asked, his lips trailing along her jaw.

"So it's okay for you, but not for me?" she asked, tilting her head to give him more access.

"Well, yeah. For me, it's not to sidetrack you so I don't have to talk," he reasoned, his lips spreading into a smirk when she shuddered against him. "For me, it's because I love you and I want to show you how much I love you."

"It's that for me, too," she returned breathlessly. When he pulled away from her with an annoyed look, she grinned. "Well, 95% of the time it is. No, it's that 100% of the time, it just benefits us both when I don't want to talk."

He couldn't stop the huff of laughter that erupted from him at her words and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him and sighing with pleasure.

He'd thought about what she had said in Jack's office while waiting for her. He could now understand why she had been so reluctant to tell him everything. Not because she was completely ashamed about what she had been through, she was, but that's not what held the truth from him. It was her fear he wouldn't love her if he knew everything. That fear made him regret he forced the truth from her. Part of him felt no better than that bastard who raped her. He had forced something from her she wasn't ready to give.

He needed her to know that he wanted her, needed her in a primal way, and that would never change. It wasn't as much about the sex as it was the intimacy, the trust. He wanted Tris to feel as though there was no part of her she needed to hide from him, that she would never feel anything but pleasure from his touch. Four believed they could be together permanently but he wanted HER to believe it too. He tilted her head up to meet his gaze. He smiled and brushed his lips against hers tenderly, moving back to see her eyes fluttering close. He returned to her lips, applying more pressure this time, before running his tongue along the seam of her lips, requesting entrance into her mouth. She sighed as she opened her mouth, accepting his tongue with a caress of her own.

Their kiss heated up, Four moving a hand to her jaw to direct her mouth to where he wanted it. When they pulled away, his hissed against her ear. "Do you have a safe word?" He didn't wait for an answer, his lips dancing over the skin just below her ear and down her neck, making it impossible for Tris to think.

"I…Not…" she fumbled with her words, before blurting out. "Eggplant."

Four pulled away slightly, tilting his head to look at her, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Eggplant?"

"Yeah," she breathed out before pulling his lips back to hers. She loved kissing him, it made every part of her tingle and she reveled in the feeling of his hard body against hers.

Four pulled back once more. "Are you okay to try this?"

She didn't answer. She tentatively tugged at his shirt, pulling at the fastenings and material as she pushed the fabric aside slightly so she could place her hands against his bare chest, his button-down shirt hanging limply from his shoulders.

Four chuckled at her sudden shyness and deliberately trailed his hands down her body slowly, making her push her frame hard against his again and drawing a moan deep from her throat, the heat within her building.

Her hands moved to his belt, now fumbling frantically with the buckle before she finally released it with a triumphant grin. Her fingers then moved onto the buttons of his fly, groaning slightly that the process of ridding him of his clothes was taking too long.

Four pulled back from her, his hand reaching to slowly caress her cheek with his knuckles. "Slow down, Tris. I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly. She'd come so close, so close to losing him.

"I promise," he pledged.

Tris inhaled slowly before exhaling and glancing up at him, flashing him a coy look. "Four," she moaned, and he grinned at her eagerness. This was the girl he loved.

He moved her back toward the bed slowly, kissing her lazily again, taking his time as though they needed to get reacquainted after being apart for weeks, not just one night. He removed her clothing at a leisurely pace, kissing each stretch of newly revealed skin as the material was peeled away. Tris was becoming delirious at his touch, his hands, fingers, lips, teeth and tongue gently pushed her closer and closer to the edge. Four smirked down at the girl in his arms, loving her appreciation for his touch before stopping, hearing her groan with frustration before continuing, stoking the fire building within her more and more.

Too much time passed before he moved off her body, standing at the foot of the bed, his eyes wandering freely over her fully-aroused state. She was quivering slightly, the need within her almost too much to bear.

Tris opened her eyes to see him smirking at her. "Whatcha doing, Bear?" she asked lazily, a hand trailing across her abdomen, hoping to entice him into speeding things along.

"Looking at you," he replied huskily.

"Like what ya see?" she asked with a wink.

"Hell, yeah," he countered.

"Why?" She probed, suddenly serious, curious still at why this man loved her so after her constant pushing him out.

"Because you're beautiful in every way possible."

She lifted her hand from her feverish skin, crooking her finger at him, enticing him to come closer.

Four moved quickly, stripping himself of his shirt and jeans and within seconds he was crawling up her body again, his mouth leaving a hot trail against her flesh as he went.

He entered her slowly, steadily, his eyes holding hers. Tris grinned to him as she lifted her hips, urging him deeper as her hand twisted down to clasp his ass, pulling him closer.

He withdrew and pushed back just as slowly, earning a frustrated growl from Tris and he couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped his throat at her expression.

"Four," she moaned, "please."

"Please, what?" He whispered into her ear before biting the lobe playfully and repeating the actions of his lower body just as tortuously slow as before.

"Faster," she breathed out just as he shifted slightly, grazing against her g-spot.

Four trailed his hand down her arm, still moving slowly, until he reached her wrist, then he moved her arm up, twisting his hand into hers, entwining their fingers and pressing their joined hands against the pillow over her head.

"Okay?" He asked her, and she knew he was talking about the pressure on her hand. Tris nodded, drawing her lip up between her teeth. He had held her hand down like this before and she was fine as long as it was just one, giving her control with of the other.

He shifted his weight slightly again, stopping his movements as he reached cautiously for her other hand. She watched him, her eyes wide as he moved that one too, joining her hands above her head. He held both her small wrists in his large hand, his other moving back down her body until it stopped at her hip. He grasped her tightly as he started to move against her again, still slow and steady, his hand holding her wrists pressed down into her pillows, holding her in place, his eyes burrowing into hers.

Tris closed her eyes at the sensation of being held like this, not uncomfortably but restraining, nonetheless. Her hands were useless to her in this moment, and her hips were being controlled by him. Her heart pounded frantically and not from his touch, but from the fear that raged within her. Rationally, she knew it was Four holding her like this, and he would never hurt her, never force anything sexually from her she wasn't willing to give, but she couldn't quell the anxiety that built within her anyway.

"Tris," Four whispered softly. "Open your eyes."

Tris shook her head slightly, afraid to open her eyes, that her mind would play tricks on her, and it wouldn't be Four's puppy brown eyes she would see above her, but hard, soulless black ones that haunted her dreams.

"Tris," he tried again, his lips brushing across each closed eyelid. "Please."

Tris swallowed nervously, a moan escaping her lips again at Four's continued movement within her. He felt good, oh so good, and she opened her eyes, staring straight into his warm chocolate ones, and she shivered at what she saw there: nothing but love and devotion.

"Faster," Tris pleaded, her eyes expressing her wish, as well as her voice.

"No," he smirked to her, his hand moving from her hip, lifting her leg higher against his waist, opening her more for him, then placing his hand on the mattress beside her.

"Tobias," Tris moaned, "please."

"Please what?" He repeated.

"Move faster."

"No," he answered gently, his lips brushing across hers with the lightest of touches. He finally had the chance to show her what this intimacy really meant. "I'm gonna make love to you."

Tris's eyes widened at his statement. Make love! That was something she didn't do. And this man, this one person she felt something for that she had never felt before, he wanted this with her, for her, for them both. The fear built again, but this time it was different because he was making her feel things she had spent years vowing she would never feel, things she didn't think she was allowed or able to feel anymore.

He continued. "This is not just sex, not fucking, but slow passionate love. That's what I meant by control. Okay?"

Tris looked at him, and Four noted the hint of fear that flashed into her eyes.

"Let me love you, Tris," he pleaded.

He thought he'd gone too far when a lone tear slipped from one of her eyes, their color shimmering between green and gold, but at her small nod, he smiled and touched his lips to hers, tender and sweet. He moved above her, gently, leisurely, plunging in quickly but withdrawing slowly, loving the feel of her, the way he caressed every part of her walls. He held her wrists, pressing them into the pillow behind her head, applying a little pressure to make sure she could feel his hand.

His other hand lifted from the bed again, his fingers trailing down her body to her breast, cupping the weight in his hand and running his thumb over her nipple before he bent to take it into his mouth. Her back lifted from the bed, eager for more of his mouth, his tongue on her body. She tugged again at her wrist but he held on tightly. Another minute or so passed at this torturous pace and Four's lips returned hers when he felt her arms relax, felt her give in to him as they moved in a sensual dance.

He released her wrists, his hands caressing her breasts, her thighs, her stomach, everywhere he could touch her heated flesh. He manipulated her body to move the way he wanted it to and in his mind, that was an achievement in itself and maybe a start to her recovery.

Tris swept her hands slowly down his body, loving his way his muscles moved under her fingers with each stroke he made within her. A smile spread on her face as she realized she trusted him completely. Four maintained a steady pace, not rushed, and in Tris' mind, agonizingly slowly.

She tried to encourage him to go faster, her hands gripping his ass and pulling him to her, but Four was getting wise to her ways now. Every time she used one of her tricks, he would stop moving, his eyebrows raising as he grinned wickedly at her, teasing her body with a soft touch to her breast, behind her knee and against her thigh, all the places he knew would cause her passion to climb. She had no choice but to let him have control, and her body shuddered at that thought. However, his hands on her body soothed away her doubts as he continued their lovemaking ever so tenderly.

It felt so good, Tris' chest seemed to burn. The feel of him when he pulled out and plunged back in, slow and sensual, how his dick dragged against every inch of her, how she forgot to think for a long moment because she was trying to concentrate on remembering to breathe. The fire he had started within her what seemed hours ago, leaped and licked at her insides, and she knew she was close.

"Fuck," she whispered, her hands grasping onto his biceps as they bulged with Four's movements above her.

Her orgasm hit her hard, and with it, she pulled Four over with her, his seed shooting deep inside her as they locked eyes. Tris shuddered with more than the usual orgasmic rush, unable to move her gaze from his as they continued to move as one, drawing the pleasure out. Four's head eventually fell into the crook of her neck as their bodies rode the orgasmic wave together, her inner muscles milking him for all he had, demanding more when he felt he had nothing left.

"I love you," he whispered, as his body finally stilled over hers, and he lowered himself down, unable to move off, feeling like he would never move again.

Her hands slid up his arms, the slickness of his sweat soaked skin making the movement seamless, gliding, until she wrapped them across his broad shoulders, one hand creeping into his short hair, and she held him close to her, his head turning slightly against her breast, and within moments, she heard his gentle snore. She smiled at the sound.

She gently moved her fingers in his hair as she replayed his words over and over in her mind. It wasn't the first time she had heard those words in the throes of passion from one of her lovers, but it was the first time they echoed down to her soul and made her body sing louder than it already did, thanks to his almost magical touch. It was the first time they made her heart leap, her nerves tingle, and her head spin and dip at the same time.

He loved her. When he had first uttered those words to her, she hadn't dared to believe him, not really. But now, with everything they had gone through, with him forgiving her, she knew without a doubt it was real, he truly loved her. Her, the one who should be beyond the love of anyone, never mind this good, caring, gentle man who made her want to be better than she ever had been. Better for him. To live for him. Her recent thoughts of her living long enough to take down the one who hurt her so much evaporated, because she knew they weren't just words for him and that he meant every syllable.

She lay there, her arms wrapped around him as the dying sun cast dim light through the windows, casting faint shadowy patterns across his smooth, slick skin, thanks to the thin material against the glass. Her fingers now traced idle patterns against his back while he dozed contently atop her, his exhaustion from last night and their intense lovemaking taking over.

She still held him within her, though the feeling was different now that he was soft, and she smiled as she clenched her inner muscles in experimentation, wondering exactly how asleep he really was.

Four groaned against her breast, obviously feeling her, and finally he shifted, rolling off her and to her side, his arms flung in abandonment above his head, his legs wide as his frame dominated their large bed.

Tris raised herself up into her elbow, her eyes observing her body and the marks he left there, marks she gratefully accepted, covering the ones that marred her. Her gaze drifted over to him, and she grinned. Even in sleep, he was impressive.

She turned and curled herself against his side, draping a thigh across one of his and resting it between his shapely legs, her head resting on his chest as her hand settled next to his still peaked nipple.

She was peaceful, her fingers moving slowly over the wide expanse of his chest and Four's left arm above him moved, wrapping around her and holding her in place.

She swallowed, suddenly nervous, and her stomach dipped with anticipation.

"I love you, too," she whispered before holding her breath, waiting for something, anything, to happen. She was half expecting the Earth to split open and swallow her whole. When she had said them before, it had been as if she had no control over her words, but now, in the dying light of the day, the weight of the phrase hit her. She loved him, beyond anything she could imagine, and now he knew it.

After a few minutes, she finally relaxed against him, closing her eyes and feeling the pull of sleep. His gentle squeeze as he held her closer told her he heard her. He knew. And he loved her back.


	37. Chapter 37

Happy Wednesday you fabulous people.

Hope you all have had an awesome week, and life is good.

The Dauntless continues to draw in new readers, so thanks to those of you who recommend my story to others. It means so much to me.

Thanks to those who left reviews that I'm unable to response to. I love to hear from you all.

Special thanks to cjgwilliams who beta'd a section of this on the fly. You always manage to work your magic no matter what I throw at you.

And now on to the next chapter...

* * *

Chapter 37

It was Tris' soft, gentle breathing that finally pull Four from his sleep. On every exhale she made, her breath blew across his nipple, and it was this sensation that eventually woke him.

His arm tightened around her, pulling her fractionally closer to him. Their bodies were now cool, not searing hot like they had been hours ago, burning with passion and emotion. The way her body had shuddered with his whispered words of love would be something he will remember for the rest of his life. And she had returned them, not in anger like the first time she told him, but in a quiet reverence that made it all that much sweeter. Even the fact she had whispered her endearment when she thought he was asleep was something he would cherish. He felt her hesitation, the tremble of her body as she voiced her love for him in the afterglow of their lovemaking. And in that quiet declaration he knew it to be her true inner feelings. _Why lie if you think the other person is asleep?_

Now, while lying in their bed, legs entwined and bodies pressed tightly together, he couldn't stop the almost smug, contented smile that spread across his lips. She loved him. The fear she held in her eyes when he held her down, would be an image imprinted in his mind forever. In that moment, his actions brought forward all she fought to suppress for so many years. But then, her fear shifted to pleasure and bliss, and he knew they had turned a corner together. Yes, the road would still be difficult, but if she was willing to travel it with him, he was willing to go at her pace.

She moved, turning away from him in sleep and rolled onto her back, and Four followed her, repositioning himself onto his side so he could study her.

Her blonde hair was spread out over the pillow, the sheet down by her waist, and he resisted the urge to bend over and taste her skin, just in case it had altered in the last few hours. In sleep, she looked innocent, something she couldn't quite pull off when she was awake. Her body screamed wicked and sinful and begged to be worshiped. He honestly didn't know how long they would have together. He was hoping for forever, but he would take whatever time she gave him, and he was sure it would be a wild ride.

He moved his hand gently to rest on her flat stomach and smiled when the muscles there fluttered slightly, just like they had the night before when he moved slowly over her, making love to her. He wondered in that moment if anyone had ever taken the time to make love to her, not just have sex with her, but slow and sensual lovemaking. He was sure there would have been men in her life who loved her: hell, there was one, maybe two, down the hall, but had they ever tried to be gentle with her, to truly worship her body, and if they had, had she let them? From the look in her eyes when he told her he was gonna make love to her last night, the fear and vulnerability that had flooded her hazel eyes, told him no, she hadn't.

But she let him, she placed her trust in him. She let him restrain her, not completely, but enough to give up a little of her control and her fear. The tear she shed alarmed him and he'd almost stopped, but he knew this was something they both needed. A mutual acceptance and sharing of a trust so recently broken.

He didn't realize his fingertips had been idly tracing patterns across her soft skin until she squirmed a little, and he grinned when she moaned. He moved his hand up, placing feather light touches over her right breast, and watching as her nipple hardened, loving her body's reaction to him. He leaned over, sweeping his lips softly over hers lazily before retreating to watch her reaction. When she didn't move, he repeated the motion, pressing a little harder this time, making sure she felt him, and he licked quickly at her plumpness of her bottom lip. This time when he moved away, her tongue snaked out and brushed across her own lips, tasting him. She smiled and whispered, "More."

"More?" He queried, and at her insistent nod, he returned to her, truly kissing her this time. Slowly, sensually, making certain she felt even inch of his tongue as he invaded her mouth once again.

Tris moved her arms from where they were resting against the pillow and wrapped them around him, holding him close to her as they greeted each other good morning, her mind idly hoping she could wake up like this every morning for the rest of her life.

Four rolled, bringing her with him until she was laid out completely atop him, their naked skin meeting as their lips did, and his hands swept gently down her back to rest on her bottom. They finally broke their kiss, and Tris moved slightly to rest her head on his shoulder. Four grinned, unable to keep the words in any longer. "So, you love me, eh?"

Tris smiled against his shoulder. "Yes," she whispered, before her brain caught up with her. Her eyes shot up to his, his deep orbs bright and mischievous. "You heard?"

"Of course I heard you, Tris. I would have heard you even if I was asleep," he said sincerely to her.

Tris ducked her head back down into the crook between his neck and shoulder, but he could feel her wide smile against his skin. "You are never gonna let me live that down, are you?"

"No way," Four said empathetically. "You said it. You can't take it back now."

"It was a moment of weakness," she waved it off, though her grin remained.

Four moved again, rolling them onto their sides so they faced each other, their hips still meeting. "It is the truth," he said, holding her head tenderly in his hands, and Tris's heart fluttered at his look, somewhere between a gloating 'I know you love me' look and a scared little boy 'please don't take it back' look.

Her fingers wove into his hair, the tips rubbing against his scalp, and her heart was beating wildly. "I love you."

Four grinned. He leaned to her kissed her gently on the lips, then swiftly on the tip of her nose before pulling back. "I love you."

Tris beamed at him. "Yeah. You know, I think that makes you certifiable or something."

"Probably," Four agreed.

Tris huffed at him, her smile seemingly plastered on her face as she playfully slapped him against his shoulder.

"Hey, no violence needed, Blondie," Four complained.

Tris laughed, grabbing hold of his wrist and shifting her body quickly so she again was on top of him, her knees either side of his waist, straddling his body, and she pinned his wrists above his head.

"Hey, no cheating," Four whined with a smirk, knowing she used her abilities to get the upper hand. She was a small person compared to him, and without her abilities and his willingness to allow her to have this moment, they wouldn't be in this position right now. She leaned down, sealing her lips over his, taking the lead this time in their kiss, demanding more from him. When she pulled back, her eyes were dark and mirrored his. "Can we fuck now?" She asked almost innocently.

Taking a huge chance, Four flipped them again, this time using his own Divergent abilities to take the upper hand so she was under him.

"I would rather make love to you again," he whispered, immediately letting go of her hands and lowering his head to take a nipple into his mouth.

Tris moaned and her hands fell to his head, holding him to her, a stuttered, "Yes," falling from her lips, and Four grinned against her.

…

Tris walked down the long corridor on her way back from the dining hall after a quick breakfast. Four had left the room a few moments before to take a called from Jason and they had agreed to meet for lunch in the city. She brushed at a crumb on her navy, pinstriped pencil skirt, her work attire always conservative with a hint of sexy, as her thoughts drifted back to the conversation she'd had with her uncle about Peter.

She was frustrated with the way her uncle easily dismissed her claims at first, almost blaming the situation on her. She was the first to admit she wasn't completely blameless with what occurred with Peter, but a girl is entitled to change her mind, and a guy should respect that, no matter when she changed her mind.

Was it only yesterday morning when she had no idea if her relationship with Four was laid in pieces at her feet, when she didn't know if he would forgive her moments of temporary insanity? Now, Peter was on his way out of Dauntless and Four had introduced her to the art of making love. He had restrained her and she had placed her complete trust at his feet. It had been nerve-wracking and her safe word had almost slipped from her lips, but she knew he would never hurt her, never take anything from her she wasn't willing to give. She smiled, her mind gleefully thinking her personal life had taken a turn in the right direction for the first time in a long time.

She nodded politely as two of the house workers moved toward her on their way down the hall, her grin dropping when they looked at each other and whispered something she couldn't hear at her distance. As they passed each other, she noted one shake her head, almost in disgust and clicking her tongue.

"Hey," Tris called out, turning back to them and making them stop in their tracks. "If you have something to say about me, just say it. Don't hold it all inside because I've heard it all before."

She knew that by now Peter's removal from The Dauntless would be common knowledge, and there were still a select few who thought the agent could do no wrong. Peter was excellent at keeping a public persona for the people who he worked with and kept around him, and many of them had no idea just how vindictive he was in private.

The two workers looked at Tris with astonishment.

"Well," she probed, resting her hands on her hips as an eyebrow rose slightly.

The two exchanged a glance again before they shook their heads and turned abruptly, hurrying back the direction they were headed.

"Dicks," Tris mumbled to herself as she too turned and continued on her way, pissed at how in some people's eyes she was the bad one in all this. She could just imagine her fellow agents and the support staff talking about how she used her position within the organization to out an old boyfriend. They didn't know what happened between the two of them, and she couldn't understand why people who were usually so friendly to her could turn on her this abruptly, especially when they had to know they didn't know the full story.

She paused when she heard voices intermingling in conversation within one of the large living areas and moved over to enter the room. Several people were standing in two clusters before the two large windows that faced out onto the long driveway of the mansion, all talking together as they watched whatever was happening outside. Tris crossed the space and moved over to one of the groups which contained Matthew, Christina, and Will.

"What's happening?" She asked, elbowing her way into the group.

"Shit, Tris! Make more noise or something," Matthew exclaimed. "I'm too young to die from a heart attack."

"Maybe we should fit her with one of those bells? Like on a kitten," Will grinned, then at the disapproving looks of both Christina and Tris, he mumbled, "Or maybe not."

"What's everyone looking at?" Tris asked again, turning to gaze out the window to see for herself whatever was happening that had captivated so many workers of The Dauntless. She spotted a black, unmarked car in the driveway and two men standing next to it, clearly discussing something, as another lifted luggage into the open trunk.

"Peter's leaving," Christina answered her, her eyes focused ahead and her voice low. For a moment, Tris idly wondering if her friend was still hungover as she studied her. Christina didn't once turn her attention from the scene unfolding before them.

Tris turned her focus back to the outdoors. Sure enough, out on the gravel driveway, Peter stood next to his car with Mason beside him and the two were talking while Gavin was placing the last of several suitcases in the trunk. A cardboard box sat on the roof of the car, and Tris could just about make out several of Peter's possessions inside, a corner of an elaborate picture frame sticking out and she shook a little, hoping that picture wasn't the one of her which usually adorned his dresser.

Tris turned her head to the other group of people in the room. Drew, Peter's Dauntless partner among them. He offered her a weak smile, as though he understood the real reason Peter was leaving, and Tris was grateful he wouldn't take his anger out on her.

She looked back out to watch as Peter shifted the storage box from the roof of his car. Before he placed into the car, Mason said something to him, and they both looked down at the picture among his belongings. Peter smiled to his now ex-boss as he answered Mason and then bent to place the box on the passenger seat of the car, his grin widening at Mason's response.

Tris ached to hear what the two were talking about, especially since she was positive it was something about her, and she couldn't help but wonder what her uncle could have said to make Peter smile at a time like this. Her senses were tingling as she watched the scene unfold, and she did her best to shove the uneasiness to the back of her mind, focusing on her happiness about Peter leaving The Dauntless, and her hopefully never having to see him again.

"I can't believe he's taking your picture with him," Christina commented in disgust, obviously coming to the same conclusion about the picture as Tris, before she turned to her friend to see Tris shiver a little as she was reminded of that little fact. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Tris gritted out, though her nerves felt like they were pulled taut, and she couldn't wait for Peter to leave the premises. She turned to her friend, genuinely curious as she asked, "What did I ever see in him?"

"I think it had something to do with what's in his pants," Will returned seriously, his eyes trained outside and a wry smile forming on his lips.

Tris huffed at his frank statement, knowing how accurate her fellow agent was.

Matthew looked at his best friend before asking, "Did he really try to... ya know?"

Tris looked at him, knowing he wouldn't be able to say the word rape. Of all the people who knew her personal history, for Matthew, it was all too real. He was the one to have seen it firsthand. He was the one able to visualize that room, blood splattering the walls and floor and Tris barely conscious, lying half naked in a pool of her own blood because he had been there... he didn't need to imagine it because he'd seen it with his own two eyes. For him, the knowledge of that room made it all the worse, and he couldn't comprehend that happening again to her.

"Mistakes were made by the both of us," Tris admitting, making her voice loud enough for all in the room to hear her. "But he went a step too far, and despite what others may think, he sealed his own fate when he chose to go down that road. No means no, no matter what happened previously between us in our history."

She wasn't exactly sure why she felt the need to vindicate herself to this group of people, but some part of her needed her house mates and co-workers to understand this wasn't some personal vendetta against Peter because he was her ex.

"Where do you think he'll go?" Will asked as he draped an arm across Christina's shoulders.

Tris shrugged. "I don't know. And frankly, I don't care. As long as he stays away from me and never comes back here, I'll be happy."

At that moment, Peter turned in the driveway, staring back toward house, and their eyes met through the window. Tris refused to allow her body to react when he visibly raked his eyes over her, as if imprinting her figure in his mind forever. She felt nothing but disgust for him, and though her skin crawled at his intensive look, she didn't allow him to see how he affected her, even though she wanted to allow her lip to curl into a scowl and to turn her back on him immediately.

"He's such a creeper," Christina stated, her body shuddering at the blatant look he was shooting Tris.

Several moments passed and Peter still hadn't moved, his eyes holding Tris' still. She refused to be the one to back down from his stare, and they stood deadlocked until they were broken apart by a co-worker.

Matthew swore softly to himself before moving, placing himself in front of Tris, and effectively cutting off Peter's view of her. "C'mon, Pix, let's get you out of here."

Tris stood her ground, growling, "Why should I be the one to leave?!"

"He's the one leaving, Tris. I just don't like him mentally undressing you before he does." And he placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her around and pushing her from the room without another word.

Tris turned her head once more to gaze out the window, just in time to see him smirk at her and then nod with a grin to her uncle.

Something in his look lingered in her mind, and she felt an unsettling sense of dread. Almost as if this whole situation with Peter was far from over.

From another window, Zeke, Four, and Caleb were also watching Peter's departure. Four had finished his call with Jason when he heard the news that Peter was being escorted out by Mason, and had moved into the nearest room to find Zeke and Caleb watching the proceedings through its large window.

"Do you know where he's going?" Zeke asked Caleb from the one side of a strangely quiet Four, who was watching the scene unfold without uttering a word. Four's body was firm, his stance wide, and his arms folded across his chest as he watched the man he wanted to seriously maim talking to Tris' uncle.

Caleb shrugged at Zeke's question. "He'll probably use one of the apartments in whichever city he's going to until he gets himself settled."

"He should be left to fend for himself," Four spat out, breaking his silence suddenly with the statement and shocking his co-workers. "Not treated like he's going on vacation."

"Uncle Mason has the secrecy of The Dauntless to upkeep," Caleb returned. "No matter what the fucker's done, he's a liability."

They watched as Peter turned back to the house, his eyes roaming the front of the building for a few seconds before obviously finding the thing he was looking for. When the smirk grew on his lips, Four's stance shifted, his uneasiness apparent to his fellow agents.

"He's looking at her," he growled out, almost feeling Tris' agitation from elsewhere in the big house and putting two and two together quickly.

"You can't know that," Zeke offered.

"Yeah, he's looking at her alright," Caleb added, having seen that smirk on Peter's face directed at his sister on more than one occasion.

Four made to move, his intention clear to his two friends beside him.

"Four, don't," Zeke said, stopping him with a firm hand on his partner's shoulder.

"I won't have him look at her like that," Four spat out, his anger bubbling over. "What the fuck does she think she's doing watching him leave, anyway?"

"Maybe she needs to know he has actually gone," Zeke offered.

"Four. It's Tris," Caleb said simply. "She's too stubborn for her own good. She won't back down for anything."

Peter finally turned back to his car, his smirk still on his face, and the three watched as he climbed in after saying something else to Mason, whose back was facing the house.

"It's over. He's gone," Caleb exhaled, thankful now the fucker had gone because he knew if he or Four had met him before his departure, Peter would most likely be leaving the house in a body bag.

…

Mason Prior walked with contented ease down the wide hallway, his broad chest swelling with pride, as always, at the opulence surrounding him. He loved this house, he loved his life, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to continue on this legacy.

Peter Hayes may have left the inner circle of The Dauntless but Mason was no fool. He certainly wouldn't have achieved all he had in life if he'd been content to go with the flow. No, he definitely liked to stir the waters, to push situations to his own benefit. Therefore, Peter may be out but he was most certainly not down, just relocated for the time being.

He scowled when he saw the lithe figure of his niece further down the hallway. She was dressed for work, though her choice of outfit was a little too sensual for the workplace for his liking. Her skirt was tight, hugging the curve of her hips and the round of her bottom, and her silk shirt, while billowing, was thin and the outline of her torso and bra were just visible.

He had spoken to Max regarding Caleb's observation of how well Tris and Four worked together, and Max had enthusiastically agreed that the partnerships should change. Mason was convinced it would be beneficial for The Dauntless, but he couldn't help think it would put a hitch in his plans. Nevertheless, the conversations had been made, the decision concluded, and he couldn't veto the plan without raising suspicion, now he just needed to let his agents know.

"Tris," his voice carried over the short distance separating himself from his niece. "I need to speak with you in my office immediately." He didn't elaborate, hoping she would stew, wondering why he needed to talk to her.

"I'm about to leave for work, Uncle Mason," Tris answered, moving toward him.

"I've called George and asked him to reschedule your appointments for this morning," he told her, holding his arm out to circle around her back and lead her down to his office. They moved in silence, both lost in their own thoughts over Peter's leaving.

Mason held the door open wide for Tris to enter before following her into his office. "Take a seat, Tris," he instructed, waving a hand in the direction of the pair of comfortable chairs before his desk.

"What's this about?" She asked as she lowered herself gracefully into a chair. "Is it about Peter?"

"Peter has gone," Mason said, a little sharper than he intended to, his head turning to the door when a sharp knock interrupted anything further he had planned to say.

"Come in," he bellowed.

The door opened and Four entered the room. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Prior?"

"Yes, Four," Mason smiled and indicted to the chair beside Tris.

Four looked quizzically to Tris as he sat next to her and she raised a brow in question to him as well.

"I'll make this quick as I know you both have busy mornings," Mason started, his eyes flickering from Four to Tris. "It has been brought to my attention the ease at which you two work together when out in the field and after careful consideration, I have decided to team you up on a permanent basis."

"What?" Tris exclaimed disbelieving.

"You two work incredibly well together. The Dauntless would be foolish to not take advantage of the connection you share," Mason elaborated, leaning back in this large leather chair.

"What about Caleb?" Tris asked, her eyes catching Four's briefly.

"Caleb will team up with Zeke."

"But, I've always worked with Caleb," Tris answered, not completely sure why she was whining about this. Four was just as good an agent as Caleb, better even with his Divergent abilities, but she felt somewhat unsettled with breaking up a tried and tested team.

"You have, but you and Four will be phenomenal. You're both Divergents, you are connected on a level which has never used in The Dauntless. This could be nothing but beneficial to us."

"What's wrong, Blondie. Don't you want to work with me?" Four teased her.

"Of course I do," she smiled to him. "It's just…what about Caleb?"

Four understood what she wasn't saying. He knew Caleb had concerns with him when he first started this relationship with Tris, and he had worked hard to convince Caleb he wasn't going to take his sister from him. Now, it seemed, he had.

"Caleb will do what's best. He knows The Dauntless is priority over any other emotions," Mason answered her. Tris recognized this for what it was; a dig at her and her demands that Peter left The Dauntless. Anger rose but Tris squashed it. Getting angry with Mason had never accomplished anything.

So she ignored her uncle and turned to Four with a smile. "I guess we're partners then, in more ways than one."

"Absolutely," Four grinned, holding his hand out to her. Partners; he liked that. Partners in life and in work. Tris slipped her hand into his and they stood at the same time.

"I'll have the gym cleared for you this evening so you can train," Mason said, trying to keep the frown from his face at their clasped hands. "You may work in synergy but you need to maintain that, so train and train hard."

"Oh, we will," Tris smirked as she turned to leave the office.

"Oh, Tris…" Mason stopped their departure. "Peter wanted me to tell you…"

"I don't want to hear it," Tris stopped him abruptly, wavering her hand in front of her, dismissing anything Peter wanted to tell her in his parting moments. She resented that Mason would even try to get her to listen. She didn't wait for anything else, pulling Four with her as she left the room.

Tris and Four separated at the main door, each heading for their respective car to drive into the city, their lunch plans canceled. Tris thought it wise to have lunch with Caleb instead and Four agreed with her decision, knowing he needed to keep her brother on his side.

She chose Caleb's favorite eatery, a vibrant bar relatively close to the offices of The Prior Group, and was prompt to meet him at 1pm.

Caleb was already tucking into the large signature burger of the restaurant and Tris smirked at him. "Couldn't wait I see," she said as she slid into the bench seat of the booth opposite him, setting her purse on the seat beside her.

"I'm hungry," he reasoned, his gaze flashing behind her. "Four's not joining us?"

"Did you want him to?" She asked as she signaled the wait staff, already knowing what she wanted for her lunch.

Caleb shrugged. "You don't usually see one without the other these days. This is a rare sighting. I may need to document it."

"Oh stop being so dramatic," Tris said before turning to the wait staff and placing her order.

"So, what did I do to deserve you buying me lunch?" He asked around a mouthful of his burger.

"Uncle Mason is breaking us up," she answered solemnly.

Caleb looked at her confused for a moment. "You and Four?"

"No, you and me," she clarified. "He's switching out partnerships." She watched him cautiously, hoping he wouldn't be too upset about this new situation. She was amazed when he slowly grinned at her. "Well don't look too happy about it. Am I truly that bad to work with?"

"Honestly, Tris. I'll never lose a weapon again. I won't have to clear up after your shit and watch every male body out there make a pass at you when we should be working."

Tris looked annoyed at his response. She'd expected him to throw a fit about being partnered with someone else.

"And it finally means the old man is listening to what I have to say," Caleb concluded.

Tris looked quizzically at him and waited until the waiter had placed her salad before her. "Anything else I can get for ya," he asked, his eyes drawing in every inch of her.

"No," she said quickly, forgetting her manners and dismissing him completely. "What do you mean?" She probed once they were alone again.

"I told Uncle Mason how well you and Four worked together, suggested that he was time to make some changes," he told her.

"Wow." She sat back in her seat taking in her older brother. This was huge for him, almost like he was giving up on his internal need to protect her. She frowned when she thought back to the conversation she and Four had with Mason this morning. "Uncle Mason made it sound like this was his idea," she said, puzzled at why he would have done that.

"It wasn't," Caleb said firmly, his eyes hard. "I told Uncle Mason how well you worked with Four. I discussed it with Max and we agreed it would be better for The Dauntless for you to partner him instead." Caleb stuffed a few more fries into his mouth and chewed before continuing. "I actually got the feeling Uncle Mason wasn't too happy about the situation."

"Then why did he agree to switch us then? This doesn't make sense." Tris ate distractedly as she tried to puzzle through Uncle Mason's reasons. She narrowed her eyes as she watched Caleb, he himself absorbed in his own thoughts. "Are you really okay with us teaming up with others?"

Caleb chewed what was in his mouth, watching Tris carefully as she stared back at him. "I know it's best for The Dauntless, I know Four would never hurt you, and I know he'll look out for you just as much as I would. In fact, he'll do a better job at it, him being divergent and all."

"Caleb…" Tris started.

"Let me finish," he interrupted her. "I need to know you are safe, that's my main reason for wanting to be your partner. To ensure your safety. There is a guy out there who wants to hurt you, Tris. My need to protect is magnified by 100% and Four is the best one to be out there with you, protecting your back, making sure he doesn't get to you. Making sure he doesn't hurt you again." Caleb looked away, not wanting his sister to see the emotion in his face, but he looked back to her to say what he wanted to next. "I love you, Tris. You're my sister, the last part of our nuclear family. I need you alive and if I have to give up my own self-centered need to be out on a mission with you so that you can be protected better, then that's what I'll do."

Tris swallowed thickly at his words. Caleb rarely showed his emotions like this, so raw. "I love you, too, Caleb," she choked out. "You're not gonna lose me."

"I so nearly did," he said, the emotion behind his words almost closing his throat. "I don't ever what to experience that again."

"We're gonna get him," she said adamantly. "We're done with him controlling us, controlling our lives."

Caleb smiled weakly at her. "Four is good for you."

"I know," she grinned back.

…

Four was already in the gym by the time Tris made it to the vast room. She paused by the door, leaning against the wall, and watched Four for a moment, appreciating the way his muscles rippled as his body moved.

"Are you gonna join me or stand there ogling?" Four's deep voice vibrated in the large room.

"I don't know," she smiled to his back, feeling his emotions like tendrils around her. His body was buzzing with her nearness and that invisible wave of excitement, of contentment that she was here, enveloped her and settled her. "I kinda like the view from here." It still amazed her how his very presence could make her feel at peace.

Four turned to her, his trademark lopsided grin breaking out as he lifted his hand, beckoning her closer.

Tris smirked as she sauntered across the space closer to him. She stopped when there was but an inch between them and raised up to her tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his lips. "Hi," she whispered.

Four cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin. "Hi," he returned. "How was your day?"

"Boring," she supplied. "I'm starving."

"For food?"

"That too," she grinned cheekily.

Four brushed his lips against her forehead before moving away from her. "Go warm up, and then we'll see what we can achieve," he told her, his eyes shining with mischief.

Tris chuckled slightly at his double entendre as she moved away from him, heading to a treadmill to start her warm up. They continued in silence, each intent on readying their bodies for what they were about to do. Forty-five minutes later, they met again on the large mats in the middle of the room.

"So how do you want to do this?" Four asked, remembering his own training for The Dauntless and how she had been an integral part of that: her status within The Dauntless giving her a say in when he was ready to try for his first mission.

"I think we should just start and see where it takes us," Tris said with a shrug of her shoulders. She watched as Four's brow wrinkled slightly, his expression showing he was obviously concerned with something. "What is it?" She asked, her fingers reaching to graze over his jawline.

"I'm not happy fighting with you is all," he said, his voice unstable with emotion.

Tris understood his concerns. The abuse he had suffered as a child and teenager was as integral to his being as hers was. He didn't like it when the strong preyed on the weak and he hated the very thought of hitting a woman. She knew, as much as he did, that a foe could not be guaranteed to be a man; after all, there was a large percentage of The Dauntless agents who were female. That the people they went up against were not averse to hitting said women was something she knew Four could not comprehend. But that's why they were the bad guys, right?

"Four, I don't exactly want to hurt you, either. I mean, I'm kind of invested in your body staying in prime condition." She trailed her fingers down his chest as she said this, letting him have no doubts about her meaning. "Besides," she continued. "It's highly doubtful you'd hurt me at all. I have a few years on you with controlling my abilities."

"Oh, I could hurt you," he challenged, his voice deep and sensual, despite the menacing tone he'd tried to lace in his words.

"Is that a promise," she taunted back, and Four's jaw dropped slightly at how husky her voice sounded. _Did she want that? For him to hurt her?_ He vaguely remembered something Peter had taunted him with, that she liked it when he was rough with her, and she'd confirmed that herself when they had argued. He shook his head, not needing to go there just now.

"Maybe we should work more on working together to take down opponents than fight with each other," he suggested.

"We should definitely do that," she agreed. "Next time." And with that she hit out, her fist striking his ribs.

Four was instantly transported back to when she had first done this, in his first week of training, and remembered her hits were always on target and always painful. But he was better prepared this time, and he moved with her, half anticipating her movements and manipulating them for his benefit.

They moved around the mat, each making hits, both holding back somewhat so not to damage the other. After an hour had passed, they both were hunched over taking deep breaths.

"I think…the problem…is…we won't be…fighting…each other," Four wheezed out.

Tris just nodded her acknowledgement. It didn't matter how well they fought each other, it was when they worked together that their pure synergy came into effect.

"We need…assistance," she huffed.

"Lucky we're here then," they both heard and turned as one to the new voice.

Zeke and Uriah stood at the edge of the matt with Caleb behind them, straddling a bench and looking mildly interested.

"Caleb told me about the switch in partnership," Zeke said, walking out onto the protective flooring. "Can't say I'm totally surprised, but I will miss working with you," he said to Four.

"Me, too," Four said honestly. Zeke had become a good friend during his time at The Dauntless, he just hoped this change wouldn't affect that.

"And since you both need to work on working together," Uriah grinned as he joined his brother, "we thought we'd offer our services."

Tris and Four exchanged a look, almost in silence communication.

"Okay," Tris agreed, straightening up and moving over to stand before Uriah. She wiped her forehead, Four echoing her movement as he maneuvered himself to stand in front of Zeke. "No using any abilities straight away," she instructed, narrowing her eyes in Uriah's direction.

Uriah shrugged one shoulder, a smirk playing across his lips, in acceptance of her one rule.

The four squared off with each other, Uriah in front of Tris, Zeke opposite Four. They circled once, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Uriah, unsurprisingly, was the first to move, stepping closer to Tris with a brisk movement that would have surprised her if she hadn't been anticipating his move. She turned into a graceful spin, her arm flashing out to catch his ear with the momentum of her turn.

Uriah retaliated immediately, lifting his leg to hip height and whipping out his lower leg, his foot hitting her square in her ribs.

Caleb watched as the four moved around the mat, Uriah and Zeke, though not Dauntless partners, worked together easily from years from fighting together as children. Four and Tris were mesmerizing. Caleb didn't think he would ever tire of watching as they moved, and fought, together. It was like observing complicated chorography for an intricate dance that only the two of them knew. They seemed to instinctively know where the other was at all times, and used this to their benefit, their catlike moves impossibly smooth. He grinned as he watched Zeke and Uriah grin, thinking they had the two on the ropes, until Tris literally climbed up Four's back, pushing off from his body and taking the two brothers down with her body, a leg kick to Uriah's head and a fist to Zeke's. She rolled away, crouching low on the ground, ready for any retaliation they would throw at her. A slow grin spread across her face when the brothers remained where they were.

"That was awesome," she grinned to Four, and he smirked back to her.

"Your love of violence is often times scary," he said as he moved over to her and offered her a hand.

She took his hand and let him lever her up, before she jumped, forcing him to catch her.

"I'm all hot and bothered now, Bear," she grinned. "What are you gonna do about it?"

His response was halted by groaning on the mat beside them as Zeke and Uriah both rearranged their bodies so they could huff out and inhale deep, both taking silent inventory of their injuries.

"That was a sick move," Uriah moaned. "You need to teach me how to do that."

"How did you know to do that?" Caleb asked from his position on the bench.

Four turned his body, Tris still in his arms. "I don't really now," Four admitted. "It was like instinct or something."

"Interesting," Caleb mumbled, his mind already whirling with thoughts about how deep this connection between Tris and Four ran.

"Can we talk about this later," Tris asked as she slid down Four's body to stand on her own feet. "I'm hot and sweating and extremely aroused."

"Too much information," Caleb groaned as he moved onto the mats to help Zeke and Uriah up.

Tris turned to the Pedrad brothers. "Thanks for helping us out. Maybe we can make this a regular thing?"

Zeke rubbed at his head. "Not sure my body can agree to that."

"You'll be fine. Stop complaining," Tris said shortly. "Be a man," she grinned to soften the harshness of her voice.

"Yeah," Zeke huffed. "I'll try and remember that."

…


	38. Chapter 38

Happy Happy Wednesday!

I hope everyone is happy and live isn't being too cruel for them. Hope all your families are well and work isn't being a bitch. Just wanted to say that ;)

We continue to gather readers and those who enjoy reading this. Almost up to 200 followers, that's epic in my eyes. So thanks to everyone still with me, and to those just joining us. You're all more than welcome.

Thanks to those guests who left a review. Your words always make me smile.

As always, thanks to cjgwilliams and her fantastic skills at deciphering my sometimes crazy writing, especially those sections written in the early hours of the morning when insomnia strikes. You're awesome, my friend.

And so on to the next chapter...

* * *

Chapter 38

It was a few days later and the ping of the elevator announced the floor she requested; the doors opened to reveal a vast room with desks scattered seemingly haphazardly, but Tris was sure there was some logic to their placement. A wall of offices lined with windows and doors were intermittently spaced to one side of the room, obviously housing the higher ranking employees, and Tris strolled from the elevator with ease, her eyes roaming the area for the person she was looking for.

The Desk Sergeant in the precinct's foyer had directed her to this floor and she was assured Four would be here somewhere. She couldn't see him, but she could feel him. He was somewhere near. She did recognize the man over the far side of the room by a bank of sun drenched windows sitting at his desk and working diligently at his computer. She moved across the space gracefully, smirking slightly at the looks of appreciation she received as she passed the work spaces located closer to the elevator.

"Hey," she said when she finally stood in front of the only man in the room she knew. "Jason, right?"

"Uh huh," he answered, not taking his eyes from the monitor in front of him, a pencil wedged between his teeth. He waited for her to continue, and when she didn't, he lifted his eyes, recognizing her immediately.

"Shit," he said quickly, the pencil dropping before he stood sharply from his chair. "Ms. Prior. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for the one with the chiseled chin. Is he around?" she asked, tipping her head in the direction of what was obviously Four's desk.

"Yeah, he's just in with the captain," Jason informed her, smiling at her description of his partner.

"Okay, I'll wait," she beamed one of her most dazzling smiles and turned to walk around Four's desk, which was placed at a right angle to his partner's, in front of the bank of windows, looking back into the space. Tris wondered if Four often turned around in his chair to observe the view out the windows, like she tended to do in her own office, instead of always looking at the one presented before him at his desk.

She knew there were several eyes focused on her, no doubt wondering who she was and why she was in the bullpen, but she ignored them as she settled into Four's chair, her brows furrowing slightly at how uncomfortable it was. She could never work like this. Her eyes scanned the furniture in front of her, and she frowned. His desk was a mess, paper everywhere and nothing was in order. She itched to set it straight. It wasn't that she was a neat person in general, on more than one occasion George sorted out her mess of a desk, but Four had no one to do that for him, to make things easier for him. She shook her head, amused by her thoughts, as this was something completely new for her.

Several of the men in the room exchanged glances, bewildered as this unknown woman blatantly made herself at home at Eaton's desk. Obviously, she didn't know how possessive he was about his work space, and when she started to sieve through some of his paperwork, one of them stood and crossed over to Jason to inquire about the mysterious blonde who had just waltzed in and made herself comfortable.

"Who's the babe?" he asked in a low voice, not wanting to draw attention to himself. "And does she realize Eaton will ball her out for interfering with his stuff?"

"The _babe_ is Tris Prior, Dylan, and you'd better to not call her babe in front of Four," Jason grinned, appreciating the surprised look that crossed his coworker's face at the revelation.

"Holy shit!" Dylan exclaimed. "That's his girl." He looked over his shoulder as Tris settled back into the chair, lifting her legs to rest on top of the desk and crossing her ankles on the corner, a file folder in her hands and her slim skirt riding higher on her thighs. "Damn!" He continued as his eyes wandered the length of her perfectly tanned legs.

"Wait," Dylan spun his head back to Jason. "Tris Prior... as in Beatrice Prior?"

Jason nodded and indicated to the girl they were talking about. "Beatrice Prior."

"Lucky dog," Dylan drew out.

Tris smirked at the overheard conversation as she opened the folder she lifted from Four's cluttered desk, her eyes dropping to be greeted immediately with a picture of herself. The print was something she thought she would never see in a file on Four's desk. It was a picture of herself in the aftermath of her parents' brutal murder. She glanced up, making sure that Jason's attention was diverted, before she looked back down at the photograph in her hand.

The camera's lens was dialed in on her face, which surprisingly was the only part of her body not marred with bruises or cut marks. Her eyelids were half closed, but she could make out her hazel eyes, normally so vibrant, looking strange and unfocused.

Her heart beat rapidly as she took in all that the picture showed her while her mind registered all it didn't. While it was obvious the girl in the picture had been tortured, it didn't show the degradation she had experienced. It didn't show the nights she forced herself to stay awake so she wouldn't be caught unaware by her tormentor or the times she was unsuccessful and was awakened by him dragging a knife along the side of her breast or moving her body into a position that she tried her best to forget.

The photograph failed to express the terror she felt knowing her father was useless to help her and forced to watch as their captor used his daughter in whichever way he wanted. Likewise, the image couldn't depict the relief she felt when her dad died, knowing he would be spared any further anguish. She sat up sharply, her mind whirling with questions regarding why Four would have this image of her in a file folder on his desk. She returned her feet to the floor, sitting straighter in the chair.

She had no memory of what happened after Matthew and his father found her that day. She had been vaguely aware of people around her, rushing and talking in low, frantic tones, hands poking and prodding at her battered and abused body, but it was as though her mind had finally switched off. And once her grandfather, uncles, and Caleb arrived, she had blissfully sunk into unconsciousness, unaware of the drama going on around her as her grandfather demanded she be transported to the Prior Estate and not a local hospital. She didn't wake until a week later.

She opened the folder wider, her curiosity getting the better of her, even though her senses were tingling and Four's voice echoed through her head, telling her to put it down, to not look deeper. But without another thought, she spread it on the desk, her fingers brushed across the glossy prints, splaying the images across Four's messy workspace so she could see them all.

The one thing these images had in common were they were pictures of her from the crime scene eight years ago, taken from all different angles. These photographs had clearly been captured after the police were called to the scene, and she marveled that the crime scene photographer had snapped so many before she was rushed from the dining room to the hospital. Her removal from the hospital had been almost immediate, and she was transferred to the large private house, where her life had been saved by the technological advances The Dauntless had developed for its agents. She swallowed nervously, willing the bile that rose in her throat down as she shifted her gaze from one to the next, attempting to study the snapshots with as much detachment as possible and again wondering why her boyfriend had these on top of his desk.

Another print caught her attention, and her hand shook as she picked it up from the worn desk. This one was different. The image was of her mother, her eyes wide and unfocused, the gash in her neck long and stark against her pale, lifeless skin. Tris' other hand lifted to her mouth, as if she was trying to keep herself from crying out, but she was unable to stop looking at the grisly photograph in her hand. Her last image of her mother had been as her throat had been slashed before her, and she remembered with clarity the feeling of her mother's warm blood as it sprayed over her face and arms. She'd been forced to move her mother's limp body with the help of her killer into a different room and that had been the last time she had seen her. This picture showed her mother's body but not her soul, her strength of character, her compassion for others, and her constant need to help. Those where the things Tris held onto, not the memory of what this picture showed.

When her hand started to shake, she returned the image to the pile in front of her. She moved the photos again, covering a particularly disturbing one of herself barely clothed, the thin lines etched into her figure by a knife, oozing blood. Again, she couldn't help but wonder how Four could look at these gruesome pictures and still love her. How could he stand to touch her knowing what another man had done to her? She hated that he had seen the proof that she was less than she should be, shattered and broken and unworthy of his love. Telling him what had happened to her was one thing, but for him to have the actual visuals in front of him, that was something else. She then remembered Four had received that other photo of her, the one _he_ had taken and kept all these years, and she shuddered at the thought unconsciously.

"Tris, are you okay?" She vaguely heard Jason from across the way, and she nodded her head absentmindedly, her hand reaching for yet another picture. She moved it to the side of the desk furthest away so Jason wouldn't see what she saw. This one was of her father, and she couldn't stop the sob that escaped her mouth when she registered what it was. His eyes were closed, and his naked upper body showed every slash, every cut, the blood dried long before the picture was taken. The image brought her back to a time in her life she would rather forget, and just as the tears were spilling over and the memory of her father's last moments on this Earth returning, she was brought back to the present.

She heard Four's voice before she saw him, his bark of "Fuck!" echoing in her brain piercingly over the loud buzzing in her ears. She felt rather than watched as he stalked over to her, pushing Jason out of the way until he swiveled his chair, moving her away from the desk and the pictures. He nodded to Jason to keep back then gripped her shoulders, lifting her from the seat and into his arms in one smooth motion.

"What are you doing here?" He asked her gruffly, though there was a hint of tenderness there, as well. He hadn't been shocked to spot her blonde head as he walked out of his captain's office a moment before. He had known the moment she entered the area, but when he heard the sob that escaped her, he knew what she had found and knew he needed to be there for her, to explain and to comfort.

"I wanted to surprise you," she answered, her voice weak, and her body shaking slightly, her eyes unfocused over his shoulder as her mind flashed what she had just seen in front of her eyes again.

Four's gaze shifted down to the photographs spread out on his desk. "When will you learn not to snoop in other people's business?"

"Never," was her soft reply, and Four chuckled a little, pulling back slightly to look her in the eye, his hand lifting to cup her cheek.

"Why do you have those?" She asked, her gaze flickering unconsciously back to the desk, and Four quickly leaned past her, collecting the images into a haphazard stack and shoving them back inside the file where they belonged and closing the folder.

"I'm investigating a crime, remember?" He answered, pushing her back down into the chair as he settled on the edge of the desk.

"Not that crime," she grumbled, seemingly gathering her composure back before squirming a little in the wooden seat. "Shit, Four. You need a new chair. This is absolutely not acceptable for sex."

Four smirked, shaking his head at the woman he loved, again amazed that she could switch so quickly from the vulnerable girl he held in his arms a second ago to the wild woman who had no qualms about sharing her thoughts of sex with him in this work chair. But he knew this was her way of dealing, to store the heartache away until she was alone and could let her anguish out with no one around to see how deeply she was affected by the past. "No, not the original crime," he confirmed before continuing. "But yours and this new one are interwoven. You know that."

He squatted down beside her. "And as for the chair, you can take that up with my boss, but I really don't think we'll be having sex in it, comfy or not, in a room full of police officers."

"Prude," she teased him with a weak smile, accepting his reasoning for why he had those grotesque photographs in his possession.

"Exhibitionist," he bantered back with a smirk.

She looked pensive for a moment, her mind unable to completely forget the images and she shifted nervously in his chair.

Four watched her, feeling something he had never before experienced with Tris; it was almost as if she wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to articulate her thoughts.

"Tris," he started tentatively, not wanting to push her too much given where they were. "Is there something you want to say?"

Tris's eyes again flickered back to the brown folder amongst the clutter of his desk.

"C'mon, Prior," he taunted "You're not the kind of person to shy away from what she wants to say."

Tris's brain acknowledged his challenge and her eyes swung back to his. "How can you be with me when you've seen what he did to me?'"

Four's heart almost broke at her timid voice, so unlike his feisty girlfriend. He knew she struggled with this, with accepting that he still wanted her intimately after knowing all the details of her rape. He was at a loss of how he could convince her nothing would change how he felt. He'd tried words and he'd tried his body, making love to her instead of just fucking, but still she couldn't comprehend his devotion to her.

"Tris, I love you for who you are. Nothing some dickward did eight years ago is gonna change that."

"But how can you look at those pictures, see the blood...the cuts...me naked... and knowing what he did, how he used me...how can you still touch me the way you do? How can you make love to someone who is broken..." She trailed off, not really wanting to have this conversation here, in front of Four's work colleagues, she just hoped her voice was low enough so it didn't carry across the room.

"You're not broken, Tris," Four returned, his stomach turning at her lost look and her private thoughts, something born from a situation she had no control over. "Sometimes you're a frightened, lost, and lonely girl, but you are far from broken. You are strong, independent, incredibly sexy and... well, you're beautiful, Tris, inside and out." He took a deep breath. "And this," he nodded towards the folder, "this is what I am, what I do. I know this evil exists in the world and it's my job to try and stop it. To get justice for the victims so they can heal." He caressed her cheek with the palm of his hand. "Seeing things like this keeps me energized, focused, on making sure sickos who would do that never get to do it to anyone else ever again."

She listened to his words, wanting so much to believe him, but a part of her, the part still trapped within the confines of that dining room with a psychopath intent on hurting her in the most degrading, violent way he could think of, doubted his honesty. She filed it away for another time, not wanting to talk about this here at his workplace. She wanted so much to believe him. She trusted him completely, with her body and her heart, she just wished her brain would get with the program and stop causing this conflict within her.

She forced a grin onto her face as she lifted her hand to his check, her expressive eyes speaking volumes, and she held his gaze for a few moments before he broke their stare.

"I know," he said simply.

"What?" She asked, though her shy smile told him she knew what he was saying.

"That you love me," he clarified.

She rolled her eyes, then smirked to him.

"Yeah. I know, too," she returned before brushing her lips against his gently. She fully intended to leave it at that, because at that moment she didn't in the least feel as sexy or as beautiful as he said he saw her, but he returned his lips to hers, this time following with his tongue and Tris responded with more ferocity. The need to stand forced Four from his squatting position, and he brought Tris with him, wrapping his arms around her waist once they were upright. Tris became aware of the stillness in the room the same time Four did, and they slowly dragged themselves away from each other, turning their heads to see every eye trained on them.

"Okay, show's over," Four barked to them all, and several people moved at once, returning to whatever they were doing.

"Eaton," a stern voice bellowed. "Smooch on your own time. Get back to work."

"Is that your boss?" Tris asked, moving away from his chair so he could sit at his desk and choosing to lean against the old piece of furniture instead.

"Yep," Four answered, picking up the file of her case and placing it in one of the drawers.

"Oooh, are you in trouble?" She teased.

"We can't all own our own multi-billion dollar company and get to head out of the office whenever the urge takes us," he quipped.

Tris just shrugged as she perched on his desk, crossing her legs, her hands holding the edge as she leaned forward a little. She smirked as his eyes traveled down to catch a glimpse of the cleavage revealed in this position before she spoke. "We all have our crosses to bear." She watched him as he tidied his desk a little before she asked, "Do you wanna have lunch with me?"

Four looked at her sideways, pausing as he held a few folders in one hand. "Is that one of your strange euphemisms for sex?"

"No, it's an invitation to lunch," she laughed.

"Of course," Four drew out. "And is lunch all we'll be having?"

"Geez, Bear. Is sex all you want me for?" She teased.

"Well," he smirked. "Not all I want you for, but you have to admit, sex with me is awesome."

Tris laughed at his boasting, her dark thoughts from a few minutes ago disappearing at his jesting.

"Okay," she smiled. "You finish up. I just have to go have a word with your boss." And she slid from the desk, bending slightly to retrieve her purse from where she had dropped it earlier.

"Hey, Blondie. What mischief are you getting into this time?" He asked, curious as to why she wanted to have a word with his boss.

"Me? Mischief?" She returned with a wink. "Now, which one is his office?"

Four pointed out the office nearest the elevators, and Tris pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Don't be long, Bear," and she turned, heading the direction he had indicated.

Four couldn't help the huge grin at her words. Bear. He loved it when she called him her pet name. He figured Bear was her version of babe, without the corniness he knew she hated. It meant one thing to him, every time she called him that, she was telling him she loved him.

Tris moved back through the bullpen, smiling to the many whose eyes followed her before stopping in front of the captain's office, taking a deep breath before announcing her presence.

She knocked sharply on the glass and waited patiently until she was invited in.

Captain Taylor was a tall, heavy set man with a large middle-age spread. He had a long face and his hair was turning gray. He was stationed behind his desk, surveying a few files, as he occasionally looked up to catch the time on the clock that was mounted on one of the walls of his office.

"Yeah, waddya want?" He huffed, irritated to be disturbed again, before looking up to see the blonde who had just been smooching one of his best detectives.

Tris raised an eyebrow at his grumpy attitude as she sauntered closer to his large desk, noting it was much nicer than her boyfriend's, as well as the desks of most of the officers and detectives in the bullpen.

"I mean, what can I do for you?" He rephrased quickly, almost standing from his seat. There was something about this woman that commanded your attention, and it wasn't just her beauty. It was the way she moved, her posture, her very being almost, and Ken Taylor berated himself for his thoughts as they began to wander.

"I think it's more what I can do for you?" Tris smiled, and the captain almost choked. "Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Tris Prior," and she offered him her hand.

"Ken Taylor," he automatically responded, taking her hand and shaking it slowly. "Please," he indicated to a chair in front of him, and Tris wrinkled her nose at what looked like an extremely uncomfortable wooden chair.

"I'm good, thanks," she smiled and dropped her purse on the seat as the captain settled back into his cushy office chair. She wasted no time, setting straight into what she had to say to the man. "I understand my parents' murder case has been re-opened."

"Well, I... wait... you are _that_ Tris Prior?"

"Yes," Tris smiled, amused by his question. "How many Tris Priors do you know?"

"Well, none. Only yourself… by reputation," Captain Taylor replied. "I'd just been made Captain when your parents were killed. It was such a tragedy. And I believe it's quite a miracle you survived."

"I had excellent doctors," Tris said offhandedly, not at all intent on telling this man the real reason she survived. "Anyway, I just wanted to say if there is anything I or my family can do to help catch this bastard, then please don't hesitate to ask."

Ken was taken aback a little at her brash language but then smiled, thinking deep down it suited her. "We'll certainly let you know," he spoke slowly, unsure how to respond to her statement.

Tris reached into her purse and pulled out a thin rectangular book, earning a puzzled look from the police captain, who didn't realize what she was about to do.

"The Prior Group would like to offer your department a donation to help improve the excellent work you are doing," she spieled, secretly gloating that if it wasn't for The Dauntless, the C.P.D.'s high-profile arrest sheet wouldn't look so good, and hoping Four would get a new desk and chair out of this.

Captain Taylor smirked to her, wondering about her motives. "Your boyfriend been complaining we won't give him a new desk?"

"Not at all," Tris answered, leaning over his desk slightly to write out one of The Prior Group's checks for the donation. "Four never talks about his work. That's unethical, right?"

She ripped the sheet from the book and handed it over, dropping her pen and checkbook back in her purse in one smooth motion as she looked at him. "I hope this will help."

Captain Taylor chuckled at her comment before glancing down at the paper in his hand.

"Holy shit," he said as he dropped back into his chair.

"So, will that be okay for new computers, desks..." she grinned. "...And chairs?"

"Two times over," Captain Taylor acknowledged, nodding his head slowly, still stunned at the amount of money the check he held in his palm promised.

"Well, don't get the cheap shit then," she quipped as she picked her bag up again, throwing the straps over her shoulder, and without saying anything else, she exited the office before Captain Taylor could say anymore.

He didn't hear her leave as he again looked at the check, noticing her signature was surprisingly girly and frivolous, not something you would expect to see on a corporate check above the printed title of Vice-President.

He whistled low and said to himself. "Look at all those zeros!"

…

Tris moved through the corridor looking for something, anything. After being turned out of the gym by Four, she needed something to do while he continued his workout. She heard laughter in front of her and steered her body in that direction, stopping outside the kitchen and peering in. Christina, Uriah, and Lynn were standing beside one of the large kitchens granite islands; mixing bowls and baking paraphernalia spread before them.

"What are you doing?" Tris asked as she moved cautiously into the room.

"We're making chocolate cake," Uriah grinned.

"What!" Tris exclaimed, her eyes quickly scanning the area, "Where's Greg?"

"He had a family emergency or something," Lynn said as she reached for the oversized flour container.

"And Uriah has a craving for chocolate cake, so…" Christina continued.

"We are taking over his domain," Uriah finished in a hushed whisper.

Tris shook her head at her friends. "And you say I have a death wish," she said seriously. Then a grin spread across her face. "Can I help?"

Lynn, Uriah, and Christina all exchanged skeptical looks, each knowing Greg and his rules about Tris being let loose in his kitchen.

"I don't know, Tris," Christina said eventually, looking with unease at her friend.

"Oh, let her help," Lynn mumbled as started counting cups of flour into a bowl.

"Yeah, what's the worst that can happen," Uriah agreed, making room for the blonde at the counter.

"Famous last words of a dead man," Christina shot out.

"No, Tris!" Four heard as he moved down the corridor. He'd finished his workout and now just wanted to shower and relax for the rest of the day. He knew he'd upset Tris when he refused to spar with her, but quite frankly, he was fed up with his girlfriend kicking his ass. The panicked tone in whoever had shrieked his girlfriend's name spiked his curiosity and he changed direction, stopping short when he entered the kitchen and the scene that greeted him.

Tris was standing in the middle of the kitchen, a large plastic apron practically covering her entire body, a pair of eye protectors on her face, and large, yellow latex gloves over her hands. She had some sort of goo in her hair, a streak of chocolate on her cheek, and what looked like flour over… everything.

Christina looked beyond frazzled. She had a powdered handprint on the butt of her jeans, the entire left side of her face was now white, and she was scrubbing feverishly at something over a few of the pristine wall tiles. Uriah was trying to pry something from Tris' hands, he also had what looked like flour in his hair, and what looked like the beginnings of a black eye, the area around his right eye socket swollen and puffy. Lynn, miraculously, was the only one untouched with baking ingredients, and she was sitting crossed-legged on a countertop, a large mixing bowl before her and a spatula in her hand.

"What happened in here?" Four asked gingerly as he moved further into the space. Christina shot him a look he was sure would kill him, or at least leave him seriously maimed, while Uriah sighed with relief at the sight of him.

"Thank fuck for that," the younger man breathed out. He turned Tris around and pushed her in Four's direction. "Will you please get her out of here before something terrible happens."

"Hey!" Tris protested at being shoved around.

"What did you do?" Four asked her, a little in awe of the destruction around him and the fact it could all be attributed to the slight girl in front of him.

"Me?" Tris exclaimed with wide eyes. "What makes you think this is my fault?"

Four smirked at her as he lifted a finger to glide along her cheek, collecting the chocolate batter smeared there as it went, before bringing it in front of her eyes so she could see it. She raised a brow in challenge, almost as if daring him to say something, as she crossed her arms in front of her. When Four mirrored her brow arch, waiting for an answer, she leaned forward and took his finger into her mouth, curling her tongue to collect the chocolate there.

"Oh God," Lynn groaned, unfolding her legs and dropping down from the counter. "If you guys are gonna go at it, I'm leaving."

"Hey," Christina called out, stopping the short girl. "What about helping us clear this shit up."

Lynn shrugged. "I didn't make it," she said evenly as she neared the door. "Don't let the cupcakes burn," were her final words as she left.

Once Tris had cleaned Four's finger she pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around his neck as he looked at her tenderly. "Why does it look like Uriah has a black eye?" He asked.

"That was Christina's fault," Tris answered innocently.

Four glanced at Christina, who was still scrubbing at the wall. When she huffed loudly at Tris' defense he switched his gaze to Uriah, who was making himself busy trying to wipe some of the flour from the countertop.

He looked back at Tris and titled his head toward her, his brow raised again in question, waiting for her to answer.

Tris huffed in annoyance as she pulled back from and took a step away. "She didn't tell me I needed to put a lid on that whizzing thing so when the stuff exploded out it surprised me and I jumped back," she said.

"And…"

"And then I slipped on some egg yolk on the floor and grabbed for something to steady me."

Four looked at Uriah to see him smirk a little.

"What did you grab at?" Four probed, a smile somehow working its way on his face.

"Uriah's junk," Christina grinned from across the room.

"It was all innocent, man," Uriah said quickly, his hands up in surrender.

"Still doesn't explain the eye," Four said.

Tris looked down at the floor, the toe of her shoe brushing through some of the flour there. "It kinda surprised me, what I grabbed, and I turned too quickly and hit him in the eye with the wooden spoon I was holding."

Four couldn't stop his grin from growing. Yes, his girlfriend had indeed created all this destruction all on her own. That was certainly impressive.

…

The full moon cast silvery shadows across the room from a window thrown open wide to let in the night air, a gentle breeze moving into the space as a man, tall, toned, and tanned walked through his apartment. The lunar light bounced off the pearls of sweat that glistened on his naked body as he took another drink from the beer he held softly in his hand. His other hand rubbed lazily over his broad, smooth chest, a smiling pulling at the corner of his lips as he replayed the day's events in his mind.

It had been more than a month since he'd crossed Tris' path again, since he looked into her eyes and saw the girl he met eight years ago. The strength he felt emanating from her was overpowering, and he couldn't wait for the moment when he got to touch her again. His smile grew at the thought of the many ways in which he could have fun with her.

He moved through his apartment, enjoying the soft movement of the air against his overheated skin. He paused on his way to the kitchen, his head turning almost automatically to face a closed white door. His legs started moving again, his direction changed, and he was soon standing before the entrance to his favorite place in this apartment, his hand upon the chrome knob.

He entered the room swiftly, locking himself in. The room was sparsely furnished, a bed and a bedside table the only items of note there. Brown drapes framed the wide window, and a small, simple shade covered the light bulb in the ceiling. But the room was far from bare.

The walls were adorned with hundreds of photographs in varying sizes. Close ups, distant shots, a few in stark black and white, but most were in vivid color. The subject was the same in each picture: A slim blonde haired woman with vibrant hazel eyes.

Eric Simmons stood in the middle of the room, his eyes roaming the images covering the walls from floor to ceiling. He took another drink from the beer bottle, draining the last of the liquid from it before setting the empty vessel down on the small table and crossing the room to look closer at one particular picture. His hand reached out, and his fingers danced over the glossy print. She had been unconscious when he had taken this picture. Her hands were bound high above her head, securing her in place with tape around her wrists, and then attached to the thick, solid leg of the mahogany dining table. She was completely naked, her head tilted to one side, her legs slightly open to the viewer, almost demurely, and Eric felt his body react to the sight before him.

Even with the marks on her body, she was perfect.

That was the one thing about the whole situation he hadn't liked, the marking of her body, the marring of her flawless, alabaster flesh. But that had been the one stipulation his client had requested; that he fucked with her perfection as much as he fucked with her. That he made her less than the flawless person everyone thought her to be, that he made her ugly, used her, and took her dignity.

Despite all that, all he was instructed to do to her, he couldn't scar her face.

His gaze shifted to another picture taken the same week, this time from a different angle. This photograph was a close up on the gentle curve of her young breast, small in size, though perfect for her body, and her nipple stood erect and rosy against her creamy-soft skin. The eroticism of the picture surged through him.

Yet another picture caught his eye, and he moved over a little. In this image, she was older, fully clothed, but still, his mind wandered at what he knew was hidden under the coral silk dress she wore in the image. In the print she was walking across the street, looking behind her as she strode out onto the crosswalk, her hair shining in the midday sunshine and falling down around her shoulders, and a length of leg showing through a long slit in her dress.

He turned again to another picture, this one even more recent. She was wrapped securely in the arms of a man, her head titled to the side so his lips could have access her slender neck.

Eric moved to another wall covered with more pictures of her naked body, and his hand clasped his now erect penis, his fist pumping slowly as his mind recalled the way she moved. His other hand reached out for the wall, his finger again brushing against the wall of prints, and he imagined he was touching her body, caressing her breast and teasing her nipple. He could almost hear her moaning with pleasure under his ministrations, something she had never done in their time together, but something he yearned to hear from her.

His fisted hand moved quicker as he panted with his need, the need to actually touch her again, the need to be moving within her, the need for her to be his completely.

All too soon his orgasm erupted, his semen spurting out of him and flying against the wall, covering a few pictures.

He staggered back, breathing heavily, and he sat abruptly on the edge of the twin bed.

"You're fuckin' awesome, babe," he whispered to the room filled with her images, grinning as his seed slid slowly down the wall.

He took a few more deep breaths before standing again and moving swiftly across the room, exiting his shrine and closing the door softly behind him.

He didn't bother cleaning himself up, what was the point? He sauntered down the short hallway to another room in the apartment. He slipped effortlessly into this room, the smell filling his nostrils immediately. The odor of sweat, sex, and blood. A scent which made him smile as images of her flooded his memory again.

His grin widened at the sound of a pitiful, muffled whimper. "Sssh, little one," he cooed gently, crossing the small space to the large bed in the center of this room. A slight figure on the bed fought against her restraints as he moved closer. "Soon, this will be all over for you. And then I'll be ready. Ready for her."

He watched as her terrified eyes darted down his body, widening in fright at the sight of his semi-erect penis and the fluid that glistened on his body.

She squirmed on the bed, trying desperately to escape, though she knew her efforts were useless, she knew her life would soon end at the hands of this crazed man before her, and despite her fear, her utter terror at what he did to her, what he could do to her, her fear for this unknown girl he talked about was greater.

…


	39. Chapter 39

Wow! It's Wednesday again. Time certainly flies. Hope this day finds you all well and relatively happy!

To those guest reviewers: Thanks as always for your reviews.

Hugh, HUGE thanks to cjgwilliams for her beta-ing skills and her constant support and help. You're the best!

So, I'm just gonna let you get on and read this... enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 39

Stopping in the doorway of the steamy bathroom, Tris drank her coffee and watched him shave. It wasn't something he did every day and he was using an old-fashioned leather strap with straight edge razor. She never saw a man use one before except in movies. He stood there in the steam in nothing but a towel calmly shaving. Tris could hardly get the air to move through her lungs just looking at him. He was fucking gorgeous! It didn't seem fair.

Four looked up to see her reflection in the mirror. "Is that for me?"

Tris looked down at the extra cup of coffee and nodded. She moved beside him and placed the coffee on the counter next to him. Stopping behind him, she rested her head on his back, liking the smell of his clean body. "You don't always use a straight razor to shave, do you?" She worried she had missed something in his personal routine.

Four shook his head. "Not always. My grandfather left me this kit. It had belonged to him."

"Did you see him often?" She asked, moving so she was resting a hip against the vanity beside him. Four understood her unspoken question. Did his grandfather know about the abuse he'd suffered as a child? And if so, why did he do nothing to stop it?

"No. He died a long time ago, when I was maybe 7 years old, just before it all started," Four told her before shutting his mouth and carefully pulling the razor along his jawline.

Tris nodded and swallowed some of her coffee. She watched him intently as he cleared one side of his jaw of its shaving soap, rinsing the straight razor with warm water after every stroke. The scent of sandalwood rose from the small wooden bowl beside the sink, his shaving brush standing beside it, the bristles covered in the frothy soap. She eased herself up onto the vanity beside him and after he rinsed the razor again, she reached out and clasped his wrist.

Four looked at her quizzically but followed as she pulled gently on him, moving him to stand between her open thighs. She took the razor from his relaxed grasp and smirked as she tilted his head slightly, lifting the blade to his jawline. "Do you trust me?" She asked, her voice breathy.

"Completely," he answered, his eyes holding hers, saying so much more than his words ever could.

She swallowed almost nervously before she dragged the blade against his skin. It felt odd; the feel of the sharp edge against his skin, the hiss as it collected the soap and his whiskers, but she marveled at the smooth skin it left behind. She rinsed and continued, moving his head as she worked, her own face pulling into awkward expressions when she moved to remove the hair above his lip. As she rinsed the blade after one contortion, Four couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

"What?" She asked, her eyes narrowing as she lifted the razor to scrap off the last of the foam.

"Nothing," Four said quickly before holding still for her.

"I have a blade in my hand and I'm not afraid to use it," she warned before placing it down beside the sink.

"Yeah, Blondie. I'm intimately acquainted with your love of sharp blades," he reminded her, as she patted his lower face with a damp, cool face cloth. He looked at himself in the mirror behind her, his hand assessing the closeness of his shave. _Not too bad,_ he thought.

"How many times have you done that?" He asked, determined not be jealous over the number she gave him.

"You're my first," she whispered, a coy smile on her face.

"That was incredibly hot," he said, looking back to her, his voice low and husky. And it was. Though he thought the idea she was completely naked beneath his shirt while she shaved him closely with a straight blade, notched up the hotness by a thousand.

"Yeah, it was," she agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

Four kissed her deeply, then slowly drew back. "Good morning."

"Good morning to you too, Detective." Tris kissed him again her hands weaving into his hair to keep him close.

Four returned her kiss with every bit of heat and fire he possessed. "You are so sexy," he whispered roughly when they finally separated, his hand inching over her bare thigh and up under her/ _his_ shirt. She tilted her head, giving him access to her neck as he peppered kissed along her skin, smearing the remnants of his shaving soap over her.

He looked into the mirror behind her, his other hand reaching into her hair so he could pull on its golden strands, wanting even more access to her skin. He wanted to feel, to see, everything. Tris twisted her head more, opening her eyes to see him transfixed by something behind her. She turned slightly, her eyes holding his in the reflection before her.

"You like to watch, eh?" She asked with a cheeky smile, her lips running over his cheek, both of them watching her movement.

"Hadn't really thought about it before," he admitted. "But it's a huge turn on."

"Really," she grinned to him, her hand moving between them to palm his growing length. She felt a wave of pride as it swelled within her hand. She did this to him.

"Wanna do it?" He whispered teasingly in her ear as her hand moved up to his chest, her fingers dancing in the hair there until his hand covered hers.

"Yeah. There isn't much that I wouldn't do with you," she said as she trembled slightly in his gentle embrace. She turned her head slightly, still finding it hard to be so open with her feelings around him.

Four raised their joined hands to nudge her chin around to him so he could look into her eyes. He was on the verge of talking too much and losing the mood, but he had to know what she meant. "What wouldn't you do with me?"

She looked into his eyes, trying to think of anything that she wasn't willing to do with him. "Well, something crazy, like bungee jumping for example."

"Bungee jumping," Four exclaimed, surprised his thrill-seeking girlfriend wouldn't want to hurl herself off some bridge to fall thousands of feet only to rebound on a piece of elastic. He relaxed. "Oh, hell, Blondie, you don't have to worry about that... too high for me. I'm scar... I mean, I don't like heights, remember?"

She laughed. "Right, I forgot about that."

He grinned as he pulled her from the vanity top, turning her around and pressing up against her, meeting her gaze in the mirror again. "Now, about my mirror question..."

She moaned softly when he pressed his erection against her. "How can you do this to me all the time?" She breathed, resting her hands on the counter.

"That's a two-way street, babe, 'cause you do this to me all the time, too." He watched her reflection for a moment, the way her eyes slid closed when she felt him against her. "I want you to keep your eyes open the whole time," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear.

"I'm not sure I'm gonna able to do that."

"Just try," he reasoned. He loved staring into her eyes when they made love, the connection between them pulsing in those moments, growing stronger, far stronger than anything he had felt before her.

"Okay, I'll try."

He pulled his shirt from her body, a hand reaching up to caress her breast as they both watched in the mirror. Tris moaned at the sensation of seeing what he was doing and feeling it was well. She loved this, watching as someone played with her body, manipulated her for their mutual satisfaction. His other hand wrapped around her waist and dipped down, a finger slipping between her folds to tease and prepare her for him. He wasn't in the least surprised to find she was already wet and ready.

"You are so responsive to me, your body ready to take me whenever and wherever," he said huskily into her hair, his teeth nipping on her ear before his lips sank lower to kiss that special spot just beneath. She twisted a hand between them and tugged at the slack knot of his towel, the item dropping immediately to floor. She pumped his length lazily as he pinched her nipple, both of them watching intently in the mirror. Tris groaned when he rubbed his fingertips over her throbbing nipple, his attempt to soothe the sharp pain only increasing her need to have him between her legs. She guided him to her blindly, his knee pushing at her leg to open her more to him. She willingly opened wider for him, feeling his tip brush against her entrance.

She eased him in, her eyes widening as always at the feel of him, his eyes intent on hers, relishing the feeling of her around his tip and the look of bliss on her face.

He easily slid into her tight opening before covering her hands where they were gripping the edge of the counter. He stayed still, giving her time to adjust; he knew she would let him know when she was ready for more. She fought the natural instinct to close her eyes and forced herself to look at him through the mirror. She pressed her back further against him, wanting him to start moving.

Four followed her lead and he moved his hips in a torturously slow back and forth motion. He couldn't have taken his eyes off of hers at that moment for anything. Her hazel eyes were a maelstrom of wild emotions and colors; she was so open that it felt like he was seeing straight into her soul. He bit his bottom lip and sweat broke out along his back as he fought to keep his movements slow.

His intense gaze sent shivers down her back. _I love you, I love you, I love you,_ she repeated the words in her mind over and over again, but they weren't leaving her mouth.

Four had never felt anything so intense and he kept his fingers intertwined with hers as he brought their arms around her waist so he could pick up his pace.

Tris could feel that she was already close to her orgasm. "Oh fuck! More," she whispered.

Four nodded wordlessly, barely blinking when a drop of sweat crept down and dripped into his eye. But he refused to look away, refused to do anything that would prevent him from seeing the look in her eyes as his movements increased. He swept her hair to the side again so he could latch onto the back of her neck, his teeth, lips, and tongue worrying the skin there with the intent to mark her, his eyes still holding hers. She nipped on her own bottom lips, the picture before her beyond erotic.

"Can you take more?" He rushed out, again one hand holding her close and the other pushing against the counter, giving him more leverage to fuck her like he wanted.

"Yeah, always," she breathed out, widened her stance a little more and pushing back against him, leaning over more and feeling him hit bottom with a loud groan on her lips.

"That's it, babe," he encouraged, knowing full well she could take anything he gave her.

The sound of their slapping flesh filled the room, the acoustics adding to the sensuality of the moment. He held her tighter, his arm a band of steel around her, as his hips slammed into her. He was seconds away from losing it and he felt her body beginning to clamp down on him, letting him know she was right there.

"Oh, God," she breathed out, keeping her eyes locked with his when he pushed her completely over the edge.

He would've known the exact moment she reached her peak even if he hadn't been inside of her; the look of ecstasy on her face was expression in its purest form and he was spellbound by it.

Moments later he came and it took everything he had to keep his eyes open, just as she did. He pulsed within her, spurting his hot seed deep and filling her completely. They breathed in sync, still watching each other intently in the mirror. He felt himself shrink within her but refused to move, her walls continuing to flutter around him.

She could feel their combined wetness slipping from her and down her thigh and she quietly marveled in that sensation. She loved the feel of them like that, their essence mixed and marking her. After they had calmed down a little, Tris turned around and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly and taking in his scent. "I love you," she whispered against his skin.

His heart was pounding and he was sure she could feel it and hear it where the side of her head was pressed against his chest. He lifted her chin and shook his head as he met her eyes. "I love you, too," he murmured as he kissed her. "I wish we didn't have to go to work. You've just about worn my ass out this morning."

"Me?" She asked innocently.

"Don't pull that innocent shit on me, Tris, we both know better." He laughed when she started to pout and he lifted her up in his arms before he kissed her again.

She ran her hand over his jaw and he smiled. He didn't always have a shave in the morning, and he knew how much she loved his facial hair, but he was incredibly happy he had decided to shave this morning.

…

It was a perfect afternoon, the sky blue and cloud free, the sun low in the sky but sparkling against the crystal waters of the lake on the Prior Estate. Tris and Four were walking the perimeter of the water, discussing the events of their day.

"And Uncle Harry still wants me to do this stupid auction thing to raise money for one of the charities the Group supports," she finished.

Four instantly hated the idea of his girlfriend being sold to anyone in the name of charity, even if it just included dinner with this person for a good cause. The fact remained they had no idea who would make an offer for her and with a nutcase free and intent on hurting her, his hackles were definitely raised on this issue.

"I really don't think it's a good idea, Tris," he told her, his hand running through his hair.

"You're just jealous," she grinned up to him as they strolled hand and hand.

"Naturally," he smirked to her. "But that's not the point. There's a fucking psycho out there, and we have no way of vetting every man who may bid at this auction."

Tris was quiet for a few moments before stating, "I do know what he looks like, ya know. And I'm not about to just willingly walk off with him."

"I know that, babe, but…" he paused, thinking of what she had just said. "Hey, did you ever sit with a police artist, ya know, to make a sketch?"

Tris turned her head from him, her eyes searching the blue lake for a second before turning back. "Yeah," she whispered.

"Do you think you can do it again? Update the original since you saw him again." Four knew he was pushing the issue but he felt like he wasn't doing enough to help this situation and it was a feeling he hated.

"I don't know, Four," she exhaled.

Four stopped her, turning his body to hers and widening his stance so they were almost at eye level, his hands resting on her hips to keep her from moving away. "At least think about it, Tris. It might help to get his picture out there again."

Tris looked deep into his eyes, easily seeing the concern they held for her. She knew he only pushed for her, to help take down this man who plagued her. Her hand lifted to cup his cheek, her thumb grazing tenderly over his skin. "I'll do it," she answered and gently brushed her lips over his.

Four gave her a cheeky half smile as he shifted his feet, turning to continue on their walk.

Tris closed her eyes and crossed her arms over her body, wishing she had worn more than the tank top and shorts she changed into after work, wondering where the chill in the breeze had suddenly come from.

"Whatcha looking at, Bear?" She asked, her eyes still closed as she let Four and her instincts guide her.

"You," he replied simply.

Tris opened her eyes and looked at him, smiling shyly before she shivered a little in the cooling air.

"Maybe we should head back," she said, turning her head slightly in the direction of the house behind them in the distance.

"You cold?"

Tris nodded she was, her gaze shifting back to Four, eyeing his wine-colored polo shirt and wondering if she could persuade him to hand it over.

"Some people just can't handle a dip in the temperature," he teased with a smile.

"It gets cold pretty quick," she smiled back.

"This is lovely weather," he continued. "In fact, it's perfect weather for a swim in the lake."

"You have got to be shitting me," she retorted with disbelief.

"No shitting," he returned deadpan.

"Four, the water will probably be freezing," she complained, her gaze landing on the pale blue of the lake.

"Come on, Blondie. You swam in that quarry lake. This isn't any different."

"Of course it is. It was a warm day when we did that. It's early evening now and getting colder." She scrunched up her nose. "I like the temperature to be comfortable before I take a dip."

"Ah, Princess Tris emerges," Four grinned.

"I am not a princess, Tobias," Tris shot back, her voice taking on an air of frustration.

"Of course not, Your Highness," Four continued.

Tris hit out with her hand against his shoulder, her lips curling into a smirk. "Dick."

Four grabbed her wrist and quickly turned her around on the spot, bringing her back to his front. "Not so fast, Princess," he whispered into her ear. "I think someone needs to experience something new."

"What?!" she almost shrieked as she turned her head slightly and caught the mischief in his face.

Four gave a low chuckle as he tightened his arms around her slim waist and lifted her from the ground. "Time to face your inadequacies."

"Inadequacies?" she queried, her eyes darting to the lake as it got closer as Four strode purposely forward.

"Yeah, in life experiences. Swimming in sub-zero temperatures is invigorating."

"I really don't think I need to, Four," she shot back, beginning to squirm in his embrace.

"I think you do," Four said, again his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her ear. "And I'm in control."

These last words were said in a whisper, Four all too aware of her need to control every situation, and when she shuddered slightly in his arms, he was unsure if it was from the fear of being thrown in the lake, his lips so close to a pleasure point of hers, or the fact he was in command.

Before Tris could think about reacting to his words, she felt herself sail through the air as Four truly did toss her out and over the lake. Tris shrieked, then the sound was cut short when she landed in the water. She spluttered as she broke the surface, not quite believing he had just done that. She brushed her wet hair from her face as she searched for him on the lake's edge. "I cannot believe you just did that," she called out when she saw him, her body shaking at the suddenly lack of warmth.

"Sometimes, you just have to take a walk on the wild side," Four informed her as he moved closer to the water's edge.

"I'm plenty wild," she shot back as she started to swim for the bank.

"That you are, Prior," Four grinned to her as she drew nearer.

She treaded water when she got closer to him. "Are you at least gonna help me out?"

"Sure." And he braced his foot against the bank and stretched out his hand to her.

Tris reached up and grabbed a strong hold, smirked, and Four knew he was in trouble. With one swift movement, she pulled hard on his hand, and he fell into the water beside her belly flop style.

She was laughing when he broke the surface, and he grinned automatically, knowing he deserved the retribution and loving every moment of it.

"You think that's funny, huh?"

Tris nodded enthusiastically as she attempted to swim backwards and away from him, knowing he would try and get back at her.

"Oh, you are gonna get it," he warned as he followed her through the water.

"Well, I certainly hope so," she returned sassily.

Four caught her easily and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her body tight against his as their legs kicked beneath the water to keep them afloat. Tris wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and her legs around his waist, deciding he could do the hard work to keep them from sinking.

Four ran his hand over her wet hair, noting the way her body trembled and goosebumps broke out across her flesh and registering the fact that the water was colder than he thought it would be. "Maybe we should get out before you catch something?"

"Yeah, who knows what bacterium is swimming around in here with us?" Tris added looking at the water around them and wrinkling her nose in disgust.

Four moved his hands again and gripped her waist as he lifted her from her. "C'mon, Princess. Let's get out of here."

"Don't call me Princess," Tris warned, but she smiled as she turned and swam from him and closer back to the bank.

A few moments later, Four helped her from the water and then hurled himself up after her.

"Are you happy now?" She asked as she tried to wring the water from her tank top.

"Immensely," he smirked back before he shook his head, sending water flying in all directions. "You do realize I can see right through your top now, right?" He added, casting his eyes over her.

Tris gave him half a smile as they turned and started to walk back to the Four, watching him from under her eyelashes.

Four laughed.

"What?" Tris' eyebrows furrowed with her question.

"When you give me that shy, demure smile, I know exactly what you're thinking."

"Oh, you do? So what am I thinking?"

Four flashed her a wide grin. "That you love me and you can't wait to rip the clothes from my body and do indecent things to me that would make a seasoned porn star blush."

"' _Make a seasoned porn star blush_!' That sounds like a challenge, Eaton," Tris smirked. This time, she was the one to stop their walk as she stood in front of him, her hands resting on his forearms before gliding up to the bulge of his biceps.

"I'm sure you are more than capable of accepting and exceeding the challenge," he bantered, enjoying the way her delicate fingers kneaded into his flesh.

"Then why are we still fully clothed when we should be getting naked?" she laughed, her voice light as she stretched up onto her tiptoes to nibble on the skin just beneath his ear, knowing this was one of his most sensitive spots and always drove him insane.

Four growled low in his throat at the sensations she was creating within him and, not for the first time, he sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening that this girl would never leave his side.

He shuffled his feet, trying to steady himself as she leaned completely into him. Tris knew he would support her as one of her hands moved further up his arm until her fingers could curled around the back of his neck, and she nipped along his jaw until her lips connected with his.

Her other hand moved now, trailing up and over his shoulder and up to hold his head, her thumb and forefinger in front of his ear, the rest behind and into his hair.

She held him in place like this as they kissed, and she plastered her body against his, rolling her hips against his, and they groaned in sync with each other.

Four moved his hands, which were wrapped around her slender waist, up the sides of her body, continuing along her arms until he covered her much smaller hands with his own. He removed them from where they were holding him in place and pulled away from her lips.

"Maybe we should go inside," he whispered as he trailed kisses along her jaw.

"Maybe we should just drop and do it here," she breathed out.

"Such a horny girl," Four laughed.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Four grinned as he stood back from her. "You know anyone looking out any of the windows along the back of the house would see us."

Tris' grin widened, and Four shook his head as he laughed. "Come on, Blondie. Let's get back to our room."

…

The restaurant was upscale and ridiculously exclusive. The waiting list for lunch alone was four months long and he hated to think what it would take to reserve a table for dinner. He was greeted with slight disdain by the maître d', a slick, stick thin man with waxed ink black hair and an impeccably pressed charcoal gray suit. The maître d' looked down his hawk nose at him, and he hid his smirk when his dinner companion was confirmed.

The table he was presented with was in a discreet position, far enough from others so their conversation wouldn't be overheard but still in a position of prestige, as though it's one occupant needed to be seen in such an affluent place.

Marcus Eaton slipped easily into the chair opposite the woman already seated, her delicate hand playing with the stem of her water glass. "You're looking well, Jeanine," he said in greeting.

"You too, Marcus," she smirked, her eyes raking over the tall man before him. And he did look good. His years away from Chicago had obviously agreed with him. His hair was still sandy brown, its cut hardly something she would call chic but it still looked good on him. He was still a handsome man, still possessed that charm that had so affected her during their college years. His suit fitted well, his crisp white shirt highlighting his broad chest and his trim waist. He nodded to their waiter when a menu was placed on the table before him then filled his water glass from the bottle already set on the table, all the while aware of Jeanine's perusal of him.

She struggled to maintain her good looks. The shine in her blonde hair was there with the aid of a colorant and an exclusive boutique that cost her a fortune. She had succumbed to the use of Botox a couple of years ago, determined to keep her face wrinkle free. Her body was the result of hours at the gym and a diet most wouldn't even contemplate. But it worked.

It had been some years since they had last meet and Marcus vaguely wondered how her life had been. He knew she was working on some important technology that could potentially change the way wars were fought, but he restrained himself from asking about it, not wanting her to know how much information he held regarding the project they were both involved with.

"How have you been?" He asked instead, his eyes lowering to study the menu in front of him. He hated restaurants like this, all pretentious and trying hard to be the next best thing. _What's wrong with a good old-fashion steak or a greasy cheese burger?_

"I've been good," she smiled back to him, her eyes gleaming with something akin to pleasure. _Was she happy he was asking? Did she not realize he was just being polite?_ "And you?" She returned.

Marcus nodded abstractedly, his eyes searching for something remotely appetizing on the menu. "Things could be better."

"You mean with you and Tobias?" Jeanine probed. When Marcus shot his gaze up to meet hers, she smirked. Yes, she knew about the distance between him and his son.

"He has made his choice," Marcus bit out. "And now he has to live with the consequences of that choice." He folded his menu and placed it to the side, his eyes now intent on her. He vaguely wondered how much she was aware of. Marcus smirked at her. Jeanine was one of those people who liked to believe she had her finger on the pulse of all things of importance, and this was one of the reasons _Mr. Black_ had chosen her in the first place. To feed that self-importance. But she was so far from the inner circle she would get dizzy from all the twists and turns she would need to take to see what was really happening, really at stake. She was nothing more than a tool who thought she was so much more. If push came to shove she would be the first to be tossed out of the plane.

"Maybe if he knew the full story he would have chosen differently," Jeanine offered.

Marcus huffed at that. He wasn't sure what his son was thinking, joining The Dauntless. Tobias hadn't even told him about his membership with the organization he had at one time believed in, and had committed his life to. He had to learn that fact second hand. That had certainly been an unexpected call. But he had never for one moment thought to back out of the plan that had been put into place so many years before. If Tobias became a casualty, then it was his own fault for associating with the wrong members within The Dauntless.

He was aware of his new relationship with the Prior girl and remembered their friendship when he was an active member of The Dauntless. He couldn't understand why his son would want to be with her, she who was used beyond all that was considered proper at the hands of someone he had personally trained.

"It's too late for Tobias," Marcus finally said as he motioned for their waiter before continuing. "Mr. Black arranged this meeting because he wants things done."

"We're getting things done," Jeanine hissed and then paused as they both gave their orders. Once the waiter had moved away, she went on. "We are almost at the testing stage with the new serum and I know this time it's going to work."

"And what about Eric? How is doing with his agenda?"

"You know Eric, Marcus. He does things in his own time. He's aware of what needs to be done. Let the boy have his fun."

"Boy! Jeanine, Eric has never been a boy. He was raised to be a cruel, vicious killer. He's sadistic and disturbed in ways even I can't comprehend."

"He was instructed to fuck with her mentally as well as physically and that's what he's doing," she answered harshly, ever defending him and Marcus once again wondered where she found him as a young boy.

"I'm not doubting what he's doing, Jeanine. I have it on high authority that he is making his reappearance and his presence known. They are aware that he is out there, I've even heard that he made contact with her recently." Marcus paused when he noticed Jeanine's eyes widen slightly in surprise at that piece of information. Something else she wasn't aware of. So Eric wasn't reporting everything back to her. He liked that. He liked keeping her in the dark.

They again paused as their meals arrived. Marcus exhaled at the lack of food on his plate. This minimalist cuisine was something he didn't enjoy. He liked to see a plate of food not something akin to a work of art.

"This looks delicious," Jeanine cooed as she unfolded her heavy linen napkin and placed it on her lap. Marcus again looked at his plate, a small, thin square of lightly toasted bread sat in the middle of his plate, a chorizo-stuffed medjool date placed artistically atop it with a swirl of bacon and piquillo pepper-tomato sauce across the bottom of the plate. Not appetizing in the least. He was tempted to spear the date, sausage, and toast in one go and stuff it into his mouth, but he resisted, knowing _Mr. Black_ had made this reservation and not wanting to tarnish his reputation.

They ate in silence, Jeanine occasionally humming in appreciation of her food and Marcus wondered, not for the first time, what had happened to young woman he had first meet in college.

Marcus, Jeanine, and Andrew Prior all attended the same college They met during an economics class, Marcus and Andrew becoming fast friends and Jeanine tagging along. It was obvious from the beginning that Jeanine had it bad for Andrew and eventually the two fell into a semi-relationship. Semi because to Jeanine it was everything, but for Andrew it was something to pass the time. He wasn't callous with her, but he would talk to Marcus and tell him it wasn't a forever relationship.

Jeanine thought it was so much more and truly expected a proposal from Andrew by graduation. Two weeks before this celebration Andrew meet a new recruit at his family's secret organization, which of course, Marcus and Jeanine knew all about. Natalie Wright was everything Jeanine wasn't and instantly Andrew was smitten.

Jeanine was distraught and in some mis-guided attempt to make Andrew jealous, she had started sleeping with Marcus. When Marcus met his future wife, Evelyn, Jeanine started an affair with Mason, determined to stay within the circle of Andrew Prior. Jeanine tried everything to prove she was a better match for the elder Prior brothers, becoming to best in her chosen profession in technology, but Andrew only had eyes for Natalie.

Soon Jeanine's love turned to hatred and that was when Mason struck, winning him over to his cause, his plans for the future, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Marcus cleared his throat and cleared his thoughts of the past. "Mr. Black wants Eric to step up his game," he told her, wondering if she was aware of just exactly who _Mr. Black_ was. "He needs results, he needs the target stripped down, nothing but a trembling mass of nothingness. He needs her out the way for the plan to continue. We are behind schedule, as you are well aware of." That last part was his dig at her and her inability to perfect her own part in this arrangement.

He also didn't add that he thought Mr. Black was losing his own grasp on things. Situations within The Dauntless were changing, and certainly not changing in their favor. If they wanted their venture to succeed, they needed to strike hard and fast, and that strike needed to be aimed straight into the heart of The Dauntless.

…


	40. Chapter 40

Happy Wednesday !

I hope you all have had a fantastic week and are enjoying the Olympics. I just love losing myself in the competition and the camaraderie between the athletes and the spectators.

Thanks to all who have reviewed. I love reading your thoughts and speculation on what is going to happen next. Some of you are right on track *wink* I still can't get over there are some of you who discuss my story in groups on FB. That has to be the highest of praises, to know that I have created something that has you all talking. Its awesome!

To my guest reviwers: thanks for reviewing, I love to hear from you.

And so on to this chapter...I have to say this is a short chapter, sorry about that but it needed to finish were it did. I hope you can forgive me.

A/N sorry just had to repost this as some things sneaked in that shouldn't have!

* * *

Chapter 40

Caleb moved lazily through the vast library, bored with his day, and, in truth, with his life. He was seriously considering taking Tris up on her offer of finding a position for him at the office. While he had made mistakes the first time he attempted to join the _grown up_ world, he had a feeling this time would be different. He was finally ready. But for today, he was bored. He'd already hit the gym, swam lengths in the pool, and now, with all his close friends working either in the house or at their daytime jobs, he had nothing to entertain him.

He ran his fingers along the leather bound tomes on the walnut shelving, paying little attention to the titles. He'd once had a great thirst for knowledge, reading almost every book he could find, until he hit puberty. For a couple of months after his parents died, he'd found himself here constantly, losing himself in the exotic places only found in the written word. He wasn't a great lover of novels; of fiction, but he absorbed the facts and reality of non-fiction like a sponge. It was a part of him not many people knew about. He tried too hard to maintain his playboy reputation, but the truth was, he loved learning and he loved knowledge. Knowledge was power, a power only a few recognized. He may not be Divergent like his sister and have the ability to move things with his mind, to have an innate understanding of certain situations, but he knew other things. He recognized that to know the facts surrounding why a person did what they did could be more powerful than being able to knock them out in one punch. He would like to think he was the brains between the, until recently, pairing of Prior and Prior, but he knew Tris' intelligence outweighed his own. However, she didn't have the time to sit and study the motives of people, to consider why they acted in a certain way; she was a woman of action. But he did. And he understood better than most.

His finger caught on a book and Caleb stopped, looked back. It was an old book, it's leather spine cracked with use and time, documenting piracy in the 18th Century and he vaguely debated taking a closer look. Stepping closer, another book a shelf higher drew his attention. This one was overlarge and rather thick. No title was recorded on the spine and it was flanked by two more of equal vastness. He tugged on the one in the middle, the one his attention had been drawn to, and pulled it from the shelf. A small plume of dust accompanied the book and Caleb coughed a little, wondering why this book was in a lesser condition than all the others. The library was well used and well maintained.

He opened it and noted it looked like a ledger, with names and dates inscribed in flamboyant script. He moved over to a large table and placed the book down, pulled the chair out and settled in.

A half hour later, with the three identical ledgers around him, Caleb finally understood what he was reading. It was a record of The Dauntless; everything that had happened to the organization since its tentative formation in the spring of 1777. Names of every member, a rating of their Divergence, and anything notable that happened to them during their time as a working agent. It was fascinating.

In the third book, he found his mother's name:

 _Natalie Wright – Divergent Level 4 – Married Andrew Prior. Two Children. Divergent level of children unknown at present._

He hadn't known his mother was Divergent and felt a pang of regret that he hadn't been the one to follow on her tradition, but found it oddly fitting that Tris did. Tris' divergence didn't become noticeable until after their parents' death.

Five pages later, he found his and Tris' names. By his name was the notation – No Divergence recorded - while Tris' Divergent level initially being recorded as a 6. This number had been crossed out and amended a couple of times, the last notation being – _continues to evolve, current status – highest level known and recorded._ No number followed, this very fact speaking volumes to Caleb. The Powers That Be within The Dauntless, those who recorded the strength and ability of its agents, had lost track of how much power she held. On one hand Caleb was immensely proud of his sister, she was off the charts epic and everyone knew it, on the other hand, he was completely terrified for her.

He also noted that Four – Tobias Eaton - was documented as having a Level 6 Divergence. Not the best ranking of the males in The Dauntless, but high enough to be remarkable. Caleb doubted this number was correct. He had seen Four work, seen him in action with the deadbeats they went up against, and he knew the man was impressive in his work. Uriah's level was higher, so Caleb began to wonder why Four seemed to be so much better. His mind replayed Four in action, his innate sense of knowing what was going on around him, and his ability to use that to the max for his own advantage. Then he brought Tris into the mix, replaying the way they moved together, connected by an invisible force. With Tris, Four was better. With Four, Tris was invincible.

Caleb flicked back through the last book, looking for anyone else with remarkable notes by their names. Nothing in the latest book, the one with the names of the current members of The Dauntless, and nothing in the second book either. The writing in the first book, the one that began the set, had faded over time, and Caleb struggled to read the curling script. Here the dates and names were sparse with large gaps in the years recorded between some entries. He squinted his eyes as he struggled with the almost invisible ink, finally finding a name with the notation – Divergent Level unchartable – beside it. Alys Ritter. There was another scribble of illegible writing and Caleb moved closer to the book to try and work out what the word was. Frustrated, he turned more pages, his eyes scanning for anything, hoping something would leap out at him.

He was so absorbed in the book that he didn't notice the door to the library softly open and close. It wasn't until he felt hot breath on the back of his neck that he knew he was no longer along. Caleb jumped, bolting up from his chair and turning to see who was interrupting him. "Jesus, Amar. You scared the shit outta me."

Amar sniggered at Caleb as he glanced down at the books sprawled across the table. "Doing a little historical research?"

Calen settled back down into the padded seat of the chair. "I got curious," he said with a huff.

Amar leaned over a little to see better what Caleb was reading. "Dauntless ancient history. I didn't realize those books were kept in here."

he moved into another chair opposite Caleb. "Neither did I," Caleb admitted. He paused his browsing and looked back at the older man. "Who documents the things in here? Who determines the Divergent levels?"

Amar leaned back against the hard back of the chair. "Max does the initial ranking," he started, "with some of the higher ranked trainers. I guess most rankings go through Mason before they are added. And I think Edward does that."

Caleb nodded. Edward was his uncle's personal secretary and was privy to most of what on in The Dauntless, more so than any other, apart from Mason, Caleb thought.

Amar's hand grazed over the first page of the book. "You know, it's said that this is George Washington's handwriting," he commented with awe. "That he was the first to notice there were people around him who had abilities that couldn't be explained and he used them as spies during the Revolutionary War."

"Really?" Caleb was clearly intrigued.

"There are some who say the war wouldn't have tipped in his favor if not for these _Divergents,"_ Amar added.

"I guess my history teacher left that detail out," Caleb said with a smile.

"Of course, the people who knew were extremely limited and sworn to secrecy. After the war the band of spies was largely disbanded, scattered as the new nation found its feet, only a few chose to stick together, to hone their skills and develop their abilities. They were not brought together again until the Civil War. At that time, Lincoln was in possession of these books and he used The Dauntless to his advantage, just as Washington had."

Caleb absorbed everything Amar told him, wondering why he had never thought to look into the history of The Dauntless before. It was just something that had always been there, a company that was so familiar to him he never thought to look deeper.

He turned the book he'd been looking at around so the pages faced Amar. "Can you decipher what this says?"

Amar leaned closer to the yellowing pages, his eyes squinting. He recognized the name, Alys Ritter, of course; she'd been something of a legend and a person who had intrigued him when he first took an interest in the history of The Dauntless when he joined over thirty years ago.

"Alys Ritter was a young woman who showed immense Divergent abilities. She was considered the best of her time, which of course, many of the male agents didn't like. Her story is not a happy one. She was betrayed by one of her fellow agents, and she, her lover, and President Lincoln paid the ultimate price." Amar paused, amused by the look of intense curiosity on Caleb face. This young man was clearly eager to hear more, to learn more about the history of the organization he'd been born into. Amar smiled, knowing Andrew would be proud of his son, proud he was taking more than a passing interest into what could be considered his personal family history. Caleb finally seemed to be growing up.

"It says her divergent level was unchartable. Does that mean she was better than Tris?"

Amar couldn't help the splatter of laughter that erupted from him. "Son, there is no one better than Tris. If Alys was considered off the charts good in 1865, Tris' level must be in the stratosphere somewhere."

"What do you make of her connection with Four?" Caleb asked, knowing Amar would have picked up on invisible elastic that seemed to stretch from his sister to their newest member.

Amar hesitated for a moment before answering. "I think… I think this connection will be the thing that saves her, saves us all. He's good for her, surely you have seen how much she has changed, how much better she is now."

"I've seen it," Caleb said. "Why do you think I suggested they team up."

"That was a very mature thing you did there," Amar praised and Caleb brushed his words off with a wave of his hand. He couldn't say it didn't hurt to know Tris would be out on a mission with someone else, that he would no longer be the one to protect her, but he also knew without doubt, that Four would never let anyone hurt her. Ultimately, she was safer with Four than she was with him and that was all that mattered.

Caleb looked down at the name he had been drawn to in the book. "What happened? With Alys?"

"That, my boy, is a tale for another time," Amar said, easing his bulk out of the chair. "I have a meeting I need to get to."

"Do you have anything written down about her that I could look at?" Caleb pushed. Something in him needed to know more about this woman, this name from the past. There was something about Alys Ritter that tickled something in his mind, made him wonder if there was something more to the connection Four and his sister shared.

"There are some journals somewhere. I'll see what I can find," Amar said as he turned to leave. "Keep looking, Caleb. You never know what secrets you'll unearth."

Caleb watched as Amar left the library, his words ringing in his head. Was there something more out there for him to find? Was there some piece of information that would change everything? His need to learn more, to understand everything, increased. He needed those journals.

…

Amar moved into the now familiar dingy interior of Carol's Bar, the place he used to meet with Edward. He did so with a kind of perverse pleasure. He knew Edward hated the place, hated the dive-bar feeling, the always immaculately dressed, well-mannered man preferring elegance and sophistication. Which is why no one would believe he came here on his own free-will.

Amar slid into the booth in the corner, one they had claimed as their own and signaled a passing waitress for a beer. "What's so urgent?"

Edward looked nervous, unsettled as he nursed his own beer, much preferring to order a cool white wine but not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to himself. He drew in aa breath, wondering to go easy or fast with what he wanted to say. "Mason has a meeting planned with Marcus Eaton." Fast it was then.

Amar showed no emotion at what Edward said but his insides churned with uneasiness. His trust in Mason lately had been waning and although he had never had anything bad to say about Marcus, his gut had never been settled when the other man was around. Now, with this confirmation that he was back in Chicago, and meeting with Mason in slightly clandestine circumstance, well, Amar didn't like it at all.

"When?" He needed to make plans, he needed to know what was said at that meeting.

Edward exhaled, his head still internally arguing that divulging his boss's plans was a bad idea, but he knew in his heart he was doing the right thing. So he continued, telling Amar all he knew about the meeting.

They sat in silence a minute, Amar taking a large gulp from his beer, while Edward continued to stare pensively at his own.

"Do you know where Mason keeps the journals of The Dauntless?" Amar asked distractedly.

"Why?"

"For some reason Caleb found the ledgers in the library and it's got his curiosity piqued. He found the name Alys Ritter and wants to look more into it," Amar smirked at his companion.

"The ledgers were in the library?" Edward asked with wide eyes.

"Yes they were and you know it. You put them there," Amar said, knowing the instant he had seen Caleb with those books who had put them there.

"Why would I do that?" Edward defended himself.

"Only a few people have access to those ledgers, Edward," Amar reasoned. "Max would never do anything against Mason's wishes, Mason certainly wouldn't have moved them, which leaves you."

Edward squirmed in his seat, something that looked almost comical on a man so immaculately dressed. If Amar didn't know Edward wouldn't have done such a thing, made such a defiant move, albeit anonymously, against Mason, he might have laughed.

When Edward looked back at Amar, his eyes betrayed his emotions. "I fear for her; I fear for what he will do to her. I almost wish she had died eight years ago."

Amar nodded in understanding, though not quite sure which _he_ Edward was referring to.

…

"Well, well. Tobias Eaton. I haven't seen you in months."

Four turned at the sound of the loud voice and was greeted with a wide grin from one of the elderly neighbors in his apartment building, Mrs. Crane, one of only a few people to know his name, simply because she refused to believed he was named _Four_.

He eyed her struggling with plastic bags filled with groceries, his gaze shooting to the stairs he was about to take up to his floor before his conscious won out. "No, you haven't seen me," Four smiled graciously as he changed direction and headed over to her, taking the bags from her as she smiled gratefully. "I've been spending a lot of time at my girlfriend's."

"You young people these days," Mrs. Crane grumbled as they moved to the elevator together, walking through the open door and hearing it ding as the sliding door closed once they were safely in the contraption. "Too quick to want to sin. Whatever happened to a good old-fashioned courtship with wooing and proposals and marriage?"

Four chuckled slightly at her words, pushing his fear of the elevator down. "Don't worry, Mrs. Crane. I'm gonna marry this girl one day, you have my word on it."

"I'm glad to hear that, Tobias," she beamed up to him. "You are such a nice young man; I hope she is worthy of your love."

"She is."

"Well, I think you should bring your young lady over so I can see if she is going to be good enough for you."

"I'm sure she would love to meet you, Mrs. Crane," he smiled as they stepped from the elevator at her floor. He followed her down the hallway to her door and waited for her to open it before handing over her bags.

"Thank you," she smiled. "You're such a kind young man."

Four waved off her compliment. "You're welcome."

He turned and headed back to the stairs. "Don't be a stranger, Tobias," Mrs. Crane called down the corridor to him before she closed her door.

Four smiled as he bounded up an extra flight of stairs to the floor of his old apartment. He needed his dress uniform for a formal ceremony the Chicago Police Department was holding for the police commissioner on his retirement, and since the ceremony was that night, he had allotted just enough time to pick up the uniform from his old place before heading downtown to the precinct.

He pulled his keys from his jeans pocket and slipped them into the lock, entering his old apartment easily and wondering, not for the first time, if it was time to give up this space. He had no intention of ever leaving Tris, so why keep the place up?

As soon as he closed the door behind him, he knew something was wrong, something off with the familiar space around him. The fingers on his right hand brushed over the butt of his police issued weapon before lifting it from its holster quietly.

He reached for the light switch, flooding the living area with brightness, his eyes scanning the open space cautiously, looking for anything out of place, out of the ordinary. Everything looked as it did the last time he had been here a few months ago, though the thick layer of dust was something new. He inched silently through the space, his ears straining for any sound that would alert him to whatever was wrong. As he moved closer to his bedroom door, the metallic smell of blood hit his nostrils, and he gagged at the scent of it. This was something new to him, the sick feeling he got with the scent of blood. For years his stomach had been as if made of iron and nothing affected him, not death, not burning flesh, and definitely not blood. He attributed this new sensation to the amount of blood he'd seen at Tris' old home, and the corresponding photographic evidence of her own victimization and murder of her parents. To know she had lived with that much blood surrounding her, on her, made his stomach churn and queasy. Now, when he caught the metallic smell, he associated it with the crimes made against her.

Knowing his prints would already be all over the doorknob, he reached for it, twisting the bulbous object until the door creaked open to reveal his bedroom, which was disturbingly dark. The smell of blood was now overpowering now, and Four wondered if an animal had somehow gotten into his apartment and died in his room. Though he instinctively knew that thought was far from what whatever was causing the smell of blood to fill his empty apartment. Whatever it was, it wasn't a small animal. It was large, and it had lost a lot of its life-giving plasma.

The room was dark, the blinds at the window pulled shut, and Four was almost certain he'd left them open. His eyes were immediately drawn to the object out of place in the middle of his old bedroom. An unmoving shape lying in the center of his large bed. He held his weapon out as he inched around the bed, the front of his body facing the unknown object at all times, and he took deep, soothing breaths as he investigated the intruder in the dark.

The light from the hall illuminated part of the bed, and Four swallowed hard at the sight of an obvious female leg, horribly pale and unmoving. His first thought was of Tris, and he mentally ran through her day to determine where she was at that time in her busy schedule.

 _Who am I kidding?_ He thought. _She could be anywhere._

He noticed the woman was wearing no clothes: she was naked in his bed and lying in a pool of her own blood, and he cringed at the goriness of the crime. He'd seen a lot in his days as a police detective, but something about this was personal and horrifying. The whole case was extremely personal, this fucker was messing with him and his girlfriend, and that seemed to make the whole gruesome details just a little too much. When the light bounced off blonde hair, his heart dropped, but he had an innate feeling that it wasn't Tris in front of him. He was sure if Tris was dead, he would know. No matter where she was, he would know. His heart waged a war with his mind as it screamed at him to make sure it wasn't Tris there on his bed, to confirm his lover hadn't been murdered and left for him to find as part of some fucked up guy's idea of a joke.

He looked again at the unmoving lump on his bed, undecided about the best course of action. Should he make sure he was alone in the apartment or call for back-up? His mind won and he decided it was better to check his surroundings first to confirm there were no other intruders hiding in wait before he made the phone call. He'd rather be 100% sure about this than be shot while making the call.

It took 15 minutes to determine he was, in fact, alone, apart from the person on his bed, and as he moved again over to his room, his apprehension grew. He replaced his gun in its holster as he re-entered the bedroom, walking slowly around the edge of his bed and closer to the body. He reached out with his hand and laid it gently on the bare ankle. There was no indication that the person was alive, the skin cold to his touch, and he cringed at the deathly coolness of the woman's body. She was dead; she _had_ to be dead.

His hand inched up the woman's leg, removing the sheet covering it, touching a knobbly knee and gliding further up over one of her thighs, his fingers becoming slick with blood that was flowing from somewhere on her leg. He leaned slightly to his side, his other hand reaching to the switch on his bedside lamp, thinking he need some light but feeling the stark brightness of the ceiling light was somehow wrong in light of the circumstances.

In the soft lighting, he finally managed a glimpse of her face and breathed easy, confirming once and for all that Tris wasn't the woman lying dead in the middle of his old bed. Her blonde hair was fanned out across the pillows, as if placed there deliberately, and her eyes – which he was sure he would later learn were a vibrant hazel – were half-open and empty. Her full lips were deathly pale, and he let his eyes wander over her. She had been cut, slashed in long thin lines, the bloodied marks stark against her pale skin of her torso, arms, and legs. There were deep bruises in varying colors everywhere his gaze landed; the only part of her body which seemed to have escaped the brutal wounds was her face. What looked like rope burns cut into her wrists, the ties that bound her had obviously been pulled tight: biting into her delicate flesh.

Across her abdomen, covering some of the lesions there, were the words Four was fast leaning to hate.

 _Soon._

He glanced at the blood pooling against her thigh, and his stomach plummeted, thinking of the marks found on the dead body of Rachel Stanley and the scars on his girlfriend's thigh. He turned quickly, striding across the room to a dresser and pulled open the top drawer, grabbing a pair of his socks and thrusting his hand into one of them. He inhaled deeply as he returned to the bed and gently moved her thighs a little further apart. He tilted his head slightly and exhaled as he distinguished the scratchy marks etched into her inner thigh.

 _E. S._

Four looked back to her face, her delicate features so similar to Tris', and his heart went out to this girl and her family. To be raped and degraded in all ways imaginable and then brutally murdered all because she vaguely resembled the girl this sick fuck had an unhealthy obsession with: his girlfriend. He briefly wondered, again, how he was supposed to keep Tris safe.

He moved again, reaching out to her again, wanting to close her eyes once and for all, and he was shocked when he heard a slight movement of air from her lips. He quickly moved his hand down to her neck, feeling for a pulse, and to his surprise, he found one. It was faint, but her heart was miraculously still beating! He dug quickly into the back pocket of his jeans, fumbling for his cell phone.

She was alive.

...


	41. Chapter 41

Happy Wednesday, you fabulous people.

Hope is all well with you, wherever you are in the world. This story continues to bring in new readers, so those of you who recommend this fic to others, thanks. It means so much that you are enjoying reading it so much that you are pulling others in as well.

Thanks to my guest reviewers, your opinions continue to count so never stop leaving me a review.

I'm super happy you all seemed to like the history I introduced in the last chapter. I was a little nervous about that, as I wasn't sure how the audience would accept it, but it seems all is good, so expect more.

And now for the sad news. My updates will probably be fortnightly from now on. I'm sorry to do this but we have come to the end of my previously completed chapters, from now on the chapters are only in their first draft. I don't want to post anything I'm not completely happy with and so need time, for myself and my beta, to create to the standard you are accustomed to. As well as writing The Dauntless I'm also working on another multi chapter fic for a different fandom, and taking MCAT prep classes. However, I can promise these updates with be as regular as they have been so far.

Thanks, as always, to my beta cjgwilliams. You truly are the best, chica.

And on to Chapter 41... enjoy

* * *

Chapter 41

Caleb sequestered himself in his room, the Dauntless ledgers he'd come across in the library now his reading material and he lost himself in the tomes. He recognized a few names, names still connected with The Dauntless today, and came to the conclusion it was truly a generational thing, to be a member of Dauntless. He smiled with immense pride at the first name recorded in the original ledger, allegedly by the hand of George Washington himself. Samuel Prior, the first recorded divergent and his ancestor, was the first of Washington's men and vital to his campaign against the British.

It was the fourth name on the list that caught Caleb's attention. Isaiah Eaton. Caleb wondered if this person was Four's ancestor. He was aware Four's father had at one time been a member of the Dauntless, and a friend of his father's. That there had been Eatons in The Dauntless for as long as there have been Priors was something Caleb didn't expect to find out. A sharp rap at his door jarred Caleb out of his musings and instinctively he pushed the ledgers under the rumbled mess of his bedding. "One second," he called out, checking the books were well-hidden. He wasn't sure why, he just felt he needed to keep his research to himself. And Amar. With one last look, he moved to the door.

He opened it with a smile on his face, which fell the moment he realized there was no one there. He hadn't taken that long! He peered both ways down the hallway, but nothing was out of place. He huffed as he turned to move back into his room, and his foot hit something at his feet. He looked down. A small pile of brown leather-bound books lay haphazardly on the floor; his foot obviously having toppled the small stack. He looked around again, his eyes narrowing slightly before he bent and cautiously collected the books together.

Once back in his room, he opened the one that would have been on top of the stack.

 _The Journal of Alys Ritter._

Caleb couldn't believe it. It had only been earlier that morning he'd discussed the possibility of reading more about the history of The Dauntless, about the enigma that had been Alys Ritter, and here was an insight into the organization and her personal life.

His thoughts drifted to Amar. He'd asked him for more information on this woman and suddenly here were her journals. _Did the older man know more than he was letting on?_ Caleb wasn't even aware such things were kept by The Dauntless. He vaguely wondered where they were stored. He knew this house like the back of his hand, had found all its hiding places as a young boy, but never had he come across something like this. Though the attic was vast and he conceded there could be places up there where should books and the like could be stowed.

He placed the journals on his dresser and settled into his easy chair with the first, his heart racing with an anticipation he couldn't understand. He ran his hand over the worn leather of the journal, almost reverently, excited about what he was going to uncover, just as his cell phone chimed with an incoming message.

He didn't answer it, his eagerness to find out more about Alys Ritter overwhelming, but when it buzzed again, he reached for the device.

 _Northwestern Memorial. Now –_ the message read and Caleb immediately sprang to his feet. His first thought was Tris. Something had happened to Tris and as he fled his room, he hit speed dial on his cell to call Four and demand to know what was going on.

…

Amar entered the technology lab with an air of disinterest. He'd been in this vast space many times before and found the constant hum of machines working oddly comforting. He would never classify himself as being the most technically minded but even he, with his limited knowledge, knew this lab was highly advanced; the devices created here top of the line.

A few tech personnel were milling around, some working tirelessly, some just chatting as they watched their colleagues work. Amar spotted Matthew way back in the room, his blond head bent over some small device that Amar couldn't even speculate on, and he made his way over.

"Don't tell me," he said when he stood beside the Brainiac, "it's something to eject a person from a speeding car?"

Matthew laughed as he continued his work. "Please, James Bond is so last century."

"I'll have you know James Bond is the epitome of spies," Amar bantered back.

"007 wouldn't last two minutes against Tris Prior," Matthew retorted.

Amar's bellowing laughter filled the space around him. "So true, Matthew, so true. James Bond would be out of his league on so many levels if he came across her."

As Matthew smirked, Amar knew he'd just been offered the opportunity he needed. "You and Tris, you go way back, right?"

"All the way back," Matthew answered, finally turning to appraise the older man. Amar was something of a legend to most within the Dauntless. His career spanned decades and now that he was no longer in prime condition to work as an active agent, he worked where he was needed. At the moment that was in clean-up, a band of people who were called to scenes to help dispose of any bodies The Dauntless thought were best to disappear completely. Matthew never asked what happened to those bodies, in fact the whole thing made his stomach lurch, but he knew that without Amar and the clean-up crew, things would not be so smooth. Now the man looked haggard, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and that caused Matthew to pause, to wonder what caused those deep wrinkles on the man's leathery face.

"She's important to you," Amar continued, well aware of Matthew close observation of him.

"She's important to a lot of people," Matthew returned cautiously.

"That she is," Amar agreed with a tender smile. He turned away from Matthew and cast his eye over the bits and pieces scattered across his work space. The computer monitor to the side had numbers and equations on its screen that boggled Amar's mind, but he knew Matthew could read those figures like a novel. There were devices halfway through being assembled, or disassembled, and some that looked like they were in the process of being developed. It looked cluttered and a mess, but Amar was well aware of how Matthew worked. His mind was constantly working and creating new ways to help The Dauntless. He knew Matthew worked better when he multi-tasked.

"So, what's all this?" Amar asked with a wave of his hand to the disarray on this counter.

"A number of things," Matthew grinned.

Amar paused. He was taking a risk, he knew it, and it was something he wouldn't normally do. He didn't want to pull more people into his clandestine campaign and Matthew was young, his whole life before him. If something were to happen to him because of something Amar had set in motion, he knew he would never forgive himself. But the situation was escalating more than he could keep up. He needed help to keep her safe, keep them all safe.

"Are any of those doohickeys a discreet listening device?'

"We have a number of listening devices," Matthew grinned, talking about his work was one of his favorite things. "Just how small a device are you looking for?"

Amar's head swiveled to make sure they were still alone in this area of the tech lab. Matthew watched the movement and instantly knew Amar was unsettled, on edge. "I need something that doesn't look like what it is, something that could get pass even the most vigilant of observers."

"Completely covert.

"Completely."

Matthew studied Amar again, his eyes narrowing. "What's going on, Amar?"

Amar regarded Matthew just as closely, praying to a God he long ago lost faith in, that his instinct about this man had been right. "I'm not completely sure," Amar admitted, "and it's time to find out."

Matthew locked eyes with Amar, them both hoping they could trust the other completely. Matthew's mind flashed with images of Tris when he had found her eight years ago and instinctively knew whatever Amar was eluding to had something to do with her. The events that had unfolded over the past months, the fact that someone out there seemed to know every move The Dauntless made, the fact that Tris' abuser was back on the scene, all these things swirled in his brain.

"I agree," Matthew eventually said. He moved from his perch by the counter and over to tall storage unit across the room. He opened drawers, looked in, then closed them again, until he found what he was looking for. Moving back to Amar, he gestured for him to hold out his hand. Then into Amar's open palm he placed a pin. It was a lapel pin adorned with the flames of The Dauntless.

"I've just finished working on this. Range is approximately 200 meters, it's the longest range we have. It has no visual, only audio," Matthew explained.

"I don't need visual," Amar said, picking the small pin up and inspecting it. It was discreet, all right. His intended wearer wouldn't suspect a thing, unless… "Does the boss know about your work on this?"

Matthew again paused, his stomach rolling. This was big, he knew it. "No. The boss doesn't know what I work on. He usually leaves me to work on what I choose, unless he wants something specific."

"And he never asked for something like this?" Amar held the pin up to emphasizes his question.

"Nope," Matthew said with a shake of his head. He then turned and retrieved a small silver box. "This is the unit that picks up the audio," and he handed it over.

Amar took it with a nod of his head.

"This is huge," Matthew said, his face solemn.

"It is, I'm afraid."

"And you're trying to keep her safe?"

"I certainly hope so," Amar nodded, his face set with a grim expression.

…

The double doors opened with an almost inaudible hiss as Caleb Prior stepped up to them. The foyer of Northwestern Memorial Hospital was a bustling metropolis of its own and Caleb moved through the vast area with barely controlled apprehension, his eyes roaming, looking for an information board so he could find where he needed to be. Despite the many wounds and injuries he received through his work, his experiences with hospitals were very limited due to the medical advances The Dauntless had access to. In fact, maybe the only times he had been in a real hospital was at his birth and when Tris had been brought here by the local police.

He vividly remembered the heated debate that had ensued from the medical staff as they desperately fought to save Tris' life, to the point of security being called to remove Theodore Prior and his two sons. But Grandpa Prior won out, as usual, and Tris was whisked away by The Dauntless' doctors by helicopter and taken to the Prior Estate under the guise of it being a private hospital. To this day the consensus was Tris would never have survived if she had been left to the doctors of this hospital, which, under normal circumstances, is considered one of the best in Midwestern United States.

Caleb finally found the directions for the Critical Care Unit and moved off with an ease that belied the agitation he felt. Agitation, anger, frustration: he was feeling these emotions in abundance right now. But the greatest feelings were hopelessness and fear. Hopelessness because this dickweed that terrorized his sister and murdered their parents eight years ago, was again causing turmoil in their lives, and fear because he felt helpless in his ability to protect her. Though Tris would be the last to acknowledge she needed any kind of protection.

His entrance to CCU was barred by uniformed officers, which did little to soothe his already fractured nerves, and he paced the small corridor, hoping someone would enter or exit so he could catch a glimpse of what was happening inside. He didn't need to wait long before the doors opened and the distinctive tone of Four's voice reached his ears.

"I don't care what your policies are," he was bellowing. "I want a double guard on her door and out in the corridor at all times."

"Eaton," Caleb called, lifting his hand to get the detective's attention.

"Let him in," Four ordered to the officer by the door and Caleb moved quickly into the bright, artificial lighting of the unit.

He nodded to Jason, Four's C.P.D partner, as he crossed the area to Four. "Has she said anything?" He asked, jumping straight in to the reason they were all here.

"No. She's still unconscious," Four answered, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Caleb now recognized this as a reaction to Four being nervous. "Where's Tris?"

Caleb smiled wily to Four. "Shopping."

"Shopping!" Four exclaimed, his eyes widening at the thought of his girlfriend wandering the stores alone, when someone who was intent on causing her harm could be just around the corner. The fact she would have her signature small Glock somewhere on her, a slim comfort.

"Relax, Eaton. I'm not a complete idiot, ya know. I had Will and Uriah present her with some shit-ass story about a double date, their questionable fashion sense, and the need to impress their girls. They will occupy her for hours and keep an eye on things without her knowing it."

Four gave a short snort at Caleb's words before he became serious again. "When she finds out this was to protect her while keeping her in the dark, it was all your idea. I'm not taking the shit for this one."

Caleb smirked. "You are so pussy whipped."

"Absolutely," Four shot back. "After the last – _'Let's keep Tris in the dark'_ fiasco, I don't need to go through another night where she thinks it would be better for us to separate. I don't need to be on the wrong side of her."

Caleb thought about this before quickly saying. "Let's say it was Uriah's idea."

Four shook his head at his girlfriend's brother. Caleb was just as scared of the blonde as the rest of them.

Caleb's head turned and his eyes landed on the girl in the bed behind a wall of glass, her blonde hair limp, numerous lines and wires flowing from her and he was instantly brought back to the reason he was here.

He took a few steps toward the room, and again, just like when he saw the girl on the floor of his old dining room, Tris' image almost superimposed itself over the prone body on the bed. He shuddered in memory. "Will she be okay?"

"Too soon to know," Four answered walking to standing beside Caleb, his own gaze on the unknown girl he had found in his bed.

"Do you think she'll be of any help in finding this fucker?"

"I don't know," Four replied. "But I hope so. She's the only one, besides Tris, to survive him."

Jason moved closer to them. He knew how close this was to Four, and this man who was Tris Prior's brother. He'd been on scene almost immediately after Four's frantic call, closely behind the beat cops that had responded to the dispatcher's call. The crime scene was gruesome, made more so by it being Four's apartment. The resemblance to the body found in the Priors' town house, the identical markers, had given Jason pause and his instincts had taken over.

"I had Baxter do a search on like attacks and murders over the last eight years," he told Caleb and Four. "The search found a disturbing number of murders, both state-wide and nation-wide, all killed in the same manner, all victims carved with the same initials."

"Any of them survive?" Caleb asked, hoping there was a happy ending in there somewhere.

Jason just warily shook his head in a negative answer.

"This bastard's been continuing what he started with Tris," Four growled. "Why has this never been investigated?"

"I don't have an answer for that," Jason said. "Each case has just been filed as a cold case."

"Someone knows, someone out there knows who this bastard this and is covering up for him," Caleb hissed, turning on Jason. "That person has to be in law enforcement."

"Hey, don't pin this on us," Jason spat back.

"If your boys did their job correctly…" Caleb was angling for a fight.

"Caleb," Four stopped him. "Not now."

"Captain wants a sit-down with you when you're done here," Jason nodded to Four and Four acknowledged his partner with a nod of his own, expecting it really. The girl had been found in his bed, in his apartment. He just hoped he had an alibi for the time of death that wouldn't expose his allegiance to The Dauntless.

"Do you think he left her alive on purpose?" Caleb asked quietly.

Four turned to Caleb again. Caleb had turned back to watch through the observation window of the patient room. This very thought was one that dominated Four's own. "No. I think he intended for her to die."

"Why?"

Four also turned back to watch the room. "Tris survived what he did to her, physically and emotionally. In my opinion, all those other girls he did this to didn't measure up to her in his mind. It's like he's been searching for someone like Tris and it's more than just her looks he's looking for, he wants her spirit, too. If this girl survives, her spirit would match Tris'. Maybe he doesn't want someone to surpass Tris' strength of character. Maybe he wants them all to fail. That's why he makes sure they die."

"But she didn't," Caleb said, tilting his head to indicate the latest victim, slightly confused.

"No, but she would have. What are the odds I would be at my old apartment today, after all this time away? I think he didn't figure on me needing something I didn't have with me, so he left her somewhere personal to me, but unused for a long time. That way, I would find her decaying body or something and know she'd died because I wasn't there to save her."

Caleb thought through Four's logic and saw the truth there. "I hate this," he said finally, his voice low and almost defeated. "I hate living in fear that she's gonna be taken from me, from us. That he's gonna win."

Four gave a short nod of his head, understanding that fear all too well, and Caleb had been living with this dread a lot longer than he had. But he was in too deep now and he couldn't imagine his life without the fiery blonde that dominated his every thought.

"He won't win," Four said with conviction. "Tris is not going to let him take another part of her."

Caleb nodded, images of Tris in action during a mission flashing through his mind. She was a strong person, strong and powerful, more than anyone he had met, and most likely, the most powerful Divergent the Dauntless had ever, or will ever, see. Maybe there was some divine deity out there who foresaw what her life would be and gave her the tools to deal with that and overcome and conquer. That in itself gave him cause to fall to his knees and thank whichever God was listening.

Caleb shifted his eyes to Four, to see the other guy deep in thought as well, wrestling with his own need to protect the girl he loved, while giving her the space to handle the situation on her own. He couldn't even comprehend what this was doing to Four. His relationship with Tris erupted so quickly and passionately. Caleb had seen his sister become involved with men and he knew she rarely took any relationship seriously, but with Four, he had seen a difference, right from the start there had been an almost electrical pulse running between the two of them. He didn't want to think what would happen if that connection was severed. He didn't think he could handle the pain that would cause Tris and the destructive path she would inevitably take if something happened.

His mind wandered to the journals he'd been presented with this morning. Someone within The Dauntless obviously wanted him to look deeper into Alys Ritter, into her life and her time as an elite assassin. Could Alys help him to find out more about what was happening in their own time? He found that notion almost prosperous. How could a figure from the past help them save his sister and out whoever was intent on destroying her and, possibly, The Dauntless?

Caleb's thoughts were brought back to the present situation when a loud piercing alarm made him focus on the small room and medical professionals rushed into the room. He again swung his eyes to Four, catching the movement of Four's finger rubbing against his eyebrow, another telltale sign Four was nervous.

"I need this girl to live," Four mumbled, and he lifted his eyes heavenward as if in prayer, and Caleb could feel his desperation. Desperation for this girl to survive, to re-build her life, and, most importantly, give them information they needed to hunt down this bastard and take him out forever.

…

Will sighed loudly as Tris rolled her eyes, yet again, at the gray shirt Uriah had picked from the rack they were currently standing before.

"Really, Uriah," she moaned. "If you're going for the whole _Harvard professor_ look then that would be perfect." She took the hanger from Uriah and quickly thrust the shirt back amongst its identical items as she continued. "Who is your date with anyway?"

"Ah…" Uriah eyes moved frantically as he searched for a name. "Marlene," he finally answered and Tris looked at him skeptically as his voice rose slightly, as if in question.

"Are you sure?" She asked with a smirk.

"No…I mean, yeah, it's with Marlene," Uriah spluttered out, internally making a note to ask his fellow agent out for a double date with Will and Christina. Caleb owed him big time for this.

"Well, Marlene definitely doesn't go for the wholesome goody look. She wants a wild man she needs to tame," Tris said her eyes wandering over the racks of shirts before her.

"Really?" Uriah asked, his brows furrowing skeptically.

"No," Will answered with a smirk. "That's what Tris wants."

Tris shrugged a delicate shoulder. "I'm sure it's what every girl wants," she commented before bringing her frozen Frappuccino to her lips, sucking hard on the straw for the beverage's goodness. "Although he does need to maintain some form of wildness, if you know what I mean?" She wiggled her eyebrows to the guys and they both gave snorts of laughter.

"Yeah, we know," Will grinned again.

Tris gave her own smirk and turned on her heel, moving away from the clothes for the dead and boring, on the hunt for something better.

Uriah and Will shared a look. "How long do you think we have to keep this up?" Will asked, a slight hint of a whine in his tone. He loved Tris but this was his idea of hell on Earth.

"Until we get the all clear from either Caleb or Four," Uriah answered wincing in pain when Tris turned back to them from the other side of the store, a pair of red leather pants clasped in front of her and a huge grin on her face. "Just shoot me now and save her fearless protectors the honor."

They both moved forward, crossing the space between them and Tris, and Will huffed. "Huh! Fearless protectors my ass. They're too chicken shit to be here and do the job themselves."

"What job?" Tris asked, obvious hearing the tail end of their conversation, as she held the pants in front of Uriah, tilting her head slightly as if imagining what he would look like wearing them.

Uriah and Will passed an anxious glance.

"Erm, the job of ..." Will started nervously, looking to Uriah in desperation.

"... the job of picking up the dog crap," Uriah offered lamely.

Tris looked skeptically between the two of them, and then scrunched up her nose in disgust. "That's shit. I hate that job."

"Since when have you had to pick up dog shit?" Will asked with a smile, hoping to steer Tris away from what she almost heard.

"Never," Tris grinned. "That's what the grounds keepers are for, right?"

"Right," Uriah agreed. "And if you think I'm wearing those leather pants, think again."

"Leather pants are hot," Tris stated simply.

"Yeah, on you," Will commented before his brain kicked in.

Tris raised an immaculate eyebrow and smirked to her friend. "You secretly crushing on me, Will?"

"Absolutely," Will smiled back. "Just don't tell your boyfriend. I like my dick where it is."

Tris' gaze automatically lowered to Will's crotch and her eyes brightened. "Yeah, wouldn't want to mess with the boys. Christina would offer me up as target practice."

"Okay, I think we've established that leather pants are hot on Tris, but they're not for me," Uriah interjected, pushing the pants firmly away from him and back to Tris, hoping to get the conversation back on track. Discussing Tris' hotness in leather and his friend's package was not his idea of a fun conversation. Not that he didn't think Tris was hot, she was gorgeous, who wouldn't think that, but she was his friend and nothing more. And Will's equipment was the last thing he thought he would be talking about.

Tris pouted a little at Uriah's obvious dislike for the pants.

"Shit, Tris. Not even the pout will work. I am absolutely NOT wearing leather pants."

"Fine," Tris exasperated, turning and hooking the pants back on the rail.

"Wow!" Will exclaimed softly. "Someone who can withstand _'The Pout'_."

"It's not easy," Uriah commented, his voice deadpan with seriousness but his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Okay," Tris said as she turned back to the guys abruptly, already dismissing Uriah's inability to fall to her charms. "This is obviously not the store for you, Uriah, and Will..." she paused as she took his appearance of jeans, plaid shirt and cowboy boots in with a critical eye. "Cowboys R Us aren't recruiting at the moment. The cowboy look only works in a few situations and this is not one of them. Who told you this looked good?" She indicated to his body with her hands.

Will looked down at himself and then back to meet Tris' eyes. "Christina."

"Uh huh. And did that conversation take place in the bedroom?"

Will shifted his feet uncomfortably before nodding his answer to Tris' question.

"Which is one of the places cowboys rule," Tris grinned, turning the boys and moving them toward the store's entrance.

"What's the other?" Will asked, turning his head a little to look at her.

"Strip club," she stated simply.

"Of course," Uriah grinned. "Thinking of a career change, Will?"

"You never know," Will shot back with half a smile.

"Why not," Tris added as they left the store and fell into step between the two men. "Some women would pay good money for a glimpse of the Will Lawson goods."

"Ya think?" Will asked with a smile.

"Absolutely," Tris reiterated, slipping her free arm between Will's upper arm and his body, tilting her head to lean it against his shoulder.

"She thinks I'm hot," Will grinned over Tris to Uriah.

Tris lifted her head again from Will's shoulder. "Uriah is hot, too," she beamed. "I'm a very lucky girl to be out with two ripped, fit men."

"Damn straight," Will smirked.

They continued down the street, making idle chat as Tris covertly cast her expert eye over the windows of the fashion boutiques they passed.

She haltered in front of one, pulling her companions to a stop with her. In front of her, in the window display, was an exquisite tailored man's suit in a gun metal gray. The material gleamed slightly and the outfit was accessorized with a charcoal gray dress shirt and a maroon tie. "Four would look so hot in that," Tris commented to no one in particular, unaware of the guys behind her rolling their eyes.

After another moment of indulging her fantasy of Four standing before her, wearing that suit, and Tris slowly removing it, she moved on.

A few more boutiques and Will carried a chic bag with a shirt in that would certainly make a sizable hole in his checking account. Uriah still had to find a perfect outfit, and he grinned wickedly at Will, almost smugly at not having been forced to buy some ridiculously expensive piece of clothing that he would probably only wear once. Tris had three bags. A dress for her, a shirt of Four, and a pair of fuck-me heels she intended to wear that evening. Now to find the perfect underwear to go with the heels. When she stopped outside Agent Provocateur, both Will and Uriah shifted uncomfortably on their feet.

"I'm not sure I'm completely comfortable going in there with you," Will said seriously.

"Why?" Tris asked with a puzzled look on her face. "It's just underwear."

"Because then all I'll be thinking about is you wearing whatever you buy and Four will know and he'll kill me."

Tris huffed and dragged both guys after her as she entered the store.

Twenty minutes later she carried a pale pink bag with a ridiculously provocative black leather-look underwear set inside and a smile of anticipation on her face was they exited the store. Will and Uriah were red in the face and glad for the fresh air.

"Okay, well this has been fun but I should really get back to work," she said to them and she double-checked she had all her bags with her.

"NO!" Uriah exclaimed, his voice several octaves higher than normal.

Will elbowed him in the ribs, a stern look on his face. "No, we still haven't found anything for Uriah."

"Come one, you guys, Uriah's wardrobe isn't that bad." She turned to Uriah. "I'm sure there is something in there you could wear. And besides, it's not as though Marlene doesn't know what she's getting into."

Uriah began to panic. "How about lunch then?" He rushed out.

Tris glanced at her watch. "I don't know if I can work that into my schedule. Especially after this little impromptu shopping trip."

"You have to eat, Tris," Uriah said quickly, his eyes flashing to Will, trying to get the other guy to help him out.

This time she saw the look that passed between them. "Oh my fucking God," she exclaimed loudly. "What the hell aren't you telling me?"

The two men shared another look, this time sheer panic shone through in their eyes. Before either of them could register anything, Tris had moved and was stalking away from them, too quickly for a 'normal' girl in heeled pumps. They moved with haste to catch up with her and found her mumbling.

"Tobias – fucking - Eaton. I'll kill him. I'm gonna cut off his balls and nail them to the headboard."

"Let's not get too hasty, Tris," Uriah said quickly, finding it hard to keep up with her and calm her down at the same time. Without looking, he knew Will was following, keeping an eye out for anything not kosher.

"No, you're right. That's too good for him," she vented. "I'm gonna... well, I can't think of anything right now, but believe me, it will be slow and painful and Four will regret the day he thought he could control Tris Prior."

"Tris, wait. You don't know..."

"No, exactly. I don't know. Because as usual you _men_ think it's better not to tell me anything." She stopped abruptly, remembering the last time Four, Caleb, and Zeke had tried to keep something from her. After Four had received those photos. "It's him, isn't it. He's done something." It wasn't a question but a statement. She knew it, knew it deep down in her guts that _he_ had done something. "Is Four okay?" She asked, suddenly afraid for him.

"Four is fine, Tris." Will soothed.

"Then what's going on?" She was surprised at how small her voice sounded and she hardened it as she added, "Tell me what's going on!"

Will and Uriah exchanged a look again, before Will relented. "We don't know. Only to keep you occupied and to keep an eye open."

Tris deflated. That just confirmed her suspicions. She wanted to pound on something, pound on Four for trying to keep her out the loop, _keep her safe._ But she remembered her promise to trust him, to have faith in him and trust in that he knew what he was doing.

"Let's go home," she said to Uriah and Will, turning back heading back the way they had come. She wasn't giving in, she assured herself. She would have it out with Four when she saw him, but for now, she was doing what she knew he would want her to do. Go home to the safety of The Dauntless.

…


	42. Chapter 42

Happy Wednesday guys!

I hope the last two weeks haven't been too hard on you all. It's been pretty bad for me and my writing has suffered. This chapter is not as long as I'd hoped it would be, but something is better than nothing, right?

Thanks for understand, in your usually way, my need to switch up my posting dates. It's not something I wanted to do but felt to give this story it's best, and to give the readers the best, allowing myself a little more time was beneficial.

Thanks to cjgwilliams for all her support and accepting my rambling emails, you are the best, Chica.

And so on to Chapter 42...

* * *

Chapter 42

Tris was quiet during the ride home, so quiet it unnerved both Will and Uriah. They exchanged concerned glances as she stared out the window, not seeing the scenery as it whizzed by. Once back at the mansion, Tris paced, her mind warring with her natural instincts. She wanted so much to let Four lead on this, do as he'd asked, but her very being demanded she do something. Sitting still was not her style, but how was she supposed to act and keep her promise to Four, her promise to trust him.

Will and Uriah sat on the couch, watching as she paced, mumbling constantly to herself. It had fallen to Uriah, after losing a round of rock, paper, scissors, to call Caleb and inform him that Tris was aware something was wrong, that he and Four were trying to protect her again, and she wasn't happy.

"What's wrong with me? When did I ever run and hide instead of staying and fighting?" she asked, spinning around to face Will and Uriah. "When did I turn into a pussy?"

"Well, Tris…" Will started nervously.

"If you tell me I'm a girl, Will, I swear I will personally make sure you're never able to continue the Lawson line."

"Shutting up," Will muttered.

"It has to be Four's fault. He must be draining all my strength or something," Tris continued her tirade, her eyes wild.

Will looked worriedly at Uriah and Uriah shrugged his shoulders, not understanding the slight blonde either.

"It has to be all the sex. Awesome, body wrecking sex. It's zapping my strength or something." She took a deep breath. "He's wrecked me. Turned me into a …" she shuddered, "a girl!"

"Tris," Uriah interrupted. "I think you're overthinking this. Four just wanted to know you are safe. Something we all want."

"Why?" She narrowed her eyes at the two men.

"Why do we want you safe?" Uriah asked with a quizzical look.

"No, I mean, what's going on that Four thinks I need to tuck away here, off the streets?"

"We don't know, we already told you that. And it's the truth. We were just told to stick with you."

Tris deflated a little as she flopped down on the couch. This wasn't her. She wanted to hit out at Four for whatever he'd done to her that made her want to do anything to please him. She sat for a few minutes, her leg bouncing nervously, before she was on her feet, resuming her pacing and quiet mumbling.

…

Caleb moved through the house at a rush, eager to find Tris, to have visual confirmation she was safe and whole. He found her in their regular lounge room, her small frame pacing the space as Uriah and Will watched.

She turned the instant he entered the space, her eyes searching behind him but she knew Four wasn't with her brother. "Where's Four?"

"At the hospital," Caleb answered.

"The hospital!" Her eyes bulged with shock, but every cell in her body told her he was unhurt.

"Don't worry," Caleb rushed out, stepping closer to her. "He's not hurt. He's there on police business."

"Police business," Tris queried, knowing there was more to it than that. Police business wouldn't involve her, wouldn't need Four to keep her out the equation and protected. Unless…

"Oh my God, I was right," she breathed out. "It's him again isn't it. Has he killed another girl?"

"Maybe you should sit down," Caleb said, trying to guide her back to the couch.

"I don't want to fucking sit down. I want to know what's going on." She pulled out of Caleb's grasp and stormed a few paces away from him. "Wait…Four's at the hospital… Is she still alive?" Her voice echoed her shock.

"Yes, for the time being, she's alive," Caleb confirmed.

Tris moved quickly, shooting past Caleb, and her fellow agents still sitting on the couch, and out the door. "Tris," Caleb called, turning quickly to follow her.

"I have to go, Caleb," she shot over her shoulder. "I have to…"

Caleb stopped her with a hand to her forearm. "You're safer here for the time being."

"Safer. Safer for Four, you mean. As long as he knows where I am, right?" She couldn't stop the venom from dripping over her tongue. Four's need to protect her, as if she couldn't protect herself, was infuriating to her.

"It's bad, Tris," Caleb relented, ignoring her bitterness, his own voice low. "She's unconscious and in critical condition."

"I have to go," Tris all but pleaded with her brother. "You don't understand."

"So help me to understand. Why do you have to go?"

"Because I do," she yelled at him. She stopped, knowing taking her anger out on Caleb was not the right thing do. She inhaled and exhaled slowly before she continued. "Because she's lying in that hospital because of me. I have to tell her I'm sorry before it's too late. I need to do this Caleb."

Caleb's heart bled for his sister. "She's not there because of you, Tris."

"No, she's there because some fucker has a hard on for me. I need to go, Caleb!" She could see Caleb was faltering, his resolve crumbling. "I'm gonna call Four and let him know I'm coming in." She relented, hoping that would be enough to appease him.

All Caleb could do was nod as she pulled her cell out of her pocket. She moved away from him as she hit Four's speed dial number. He answered on the fifth ring.

"Make it quick, babe, before they kick me out for using my cell."

"I did what you wanted. I came home and sat quietly like the little woman while you did your manly, protection thing. Now I'm coming in."

"No, Tris."

"Four, I need to do this. I need to see her." She hoped he could feel the desperation in her voice, could grasp that she was going to do this, with or without his permission. It seemed to work when she finally heard him sigh, "Get Caleb to bring you."

"I will." And she shut off the call without bothering to say goodbye, she would see him soon enough. She spun back to Caleb, a grim smile on her face. "Let's go."

…

Amar shifted uncomfortably in the seat of his car, headphones set in place over his ears, and the unit Matthew had given him on the seat beside him. He'd just watched Mason enter the exclusive dining club and could hear as he was greeted by the maître 'd and shown to his seat, being told his dinner companion had arrived a few minutes earlier. _Of course,_ Amar thought, knowing Mason always made a point to be a few minutes late. The man hated to be kept waiting.

"Good afternoon, Mason. You're looking well." Amar jumped slightly at the sound of Marcus Eaton's voice, its deep baritone familiar but still unsettling.

"As are you, Marcus," Mason replied and Amar heard the shuffling of chairs as Mason sat. Amar closed his eyes, his imagination taking over as his mind visualized what he was hearing.

"How's business?" Marcus asked pleasantly.

"The Group is doing fine. We've just bought out Morris and Son's." Amar could hear the smile in Mason's voice.

"That's a rather lucrative deal," Marcus said, impressed.

"It is, cost a small fortune but the returns will be quadruple that, in the right hands, of course," Mason agreed, his eyes wide with the prospects of profit he expected to receive.

"Of course. And how about the other business?"

Mason knew Marcus would poke into The Dauntless, he just expected it to be over coffee. "The Dauntless continues to be the most elite organization in the US and probably the world," he said proudly.

"Yeah, but I hear you've been having a few complications," Marcus pushed.

Mason's eyes narrowed at his dinner companion. "Nothing we can't handle."

There was a pause in the conversation as orders were placed and dinner rolls set on the table.

Marcus picked one up and tore it apart. "And just how is my son doing?" he asked mildly.

Mason stopped buttering the fresh bread in his hand and again stared at Marcus. "Tobias… he is a valued agent."

"Of course he is," Marcus smiled. "I wouldn't expect anything else." He paused, almost calculating how much he could push Mason. "And his divergent level?"

Mason almost slammed his knife back onto the table. "You know I'm not going to discuss that with you, Marcus. You want to know, ask the boy yourself." Mason couldn't help that last dig, knowing there was tension between Marcus and Tobias, though not understanding why.

"He shouldn't be with The Dauntless," Marcus hissed, his composure slipping. "He should be with me, assisting with my side of the project. You had no reason to offer him a place within The Dauntless."

Mason now smiled, understanding the fact he had Tobias in The Dauntless was something that infuriated Marcus. "What was I supposed to do? He landed, literally, on my doorstep."

"You should have turned him away," Marcus replied heatedly. "Healed him and sent him off."

"What? With stories about his great and fabulous father in his head?" Mason scoffed.

"That wouldn't have hurt," Marcus smirked.

"Well, I didn't." Mason took a bite of the roll and chewed thoughtly. "Beatrice has taken quite a liking to your son."

"I have no doubt," Marcus smiled, taking a sip of his wine, and remembering the two as children before he took Tobias to California. His eyes brightened as he asked, "And how is Tris?"

"Tris continues to evolve," Mason answered cryptically.

"How is she coping with the new developments?"

Mason looked sharply at Marcus. "She's handling them. She's a strong girl, Marcus. Stronger than you or I could have ever imagined."

"And have you meet with Jeanine recently?"

"What's with all the questions, Marcus?" Mason's temper was rising. "I didn't come here to be interrogated by you. You want to know about Jeanine, you talk to her yourself."

"I have," Marcus grinned. "She's on schedule with the serum. It will soon be time to test it on the real subject."

Mason's brows furrowed for a minute before smoothing out again. He didn't like how much he seemed to be out of the loop with what Marcus was doing and wondered what else Marcus kept from him. He pushed that thought aside for the moment. "I think it should be tested on a lesser subject first. We don't want to burn all our bridges at once, do we?"

They paused again as their food was placed before them and more wine poured. Marcus watched Mason with interest before saying, "You need to find a way to get Tobias out The Dauntless. He needs to be with me."

"Who the hell do you think you are talking to?" Mason spat out. "You forget, Marcus. I don't take orders from you. You may be in control of Jeanine but not me, and certainly not The Dauntless. Tobias is now a member of my organization and will remain so until I decide otherwise."

Marcus simply nodded, all too familiar with Mason's outbursts of anger, having witnessed many of them through their years as _friends_ , and he did use that term lightly. "I've heard he's rather hot and heavy with your niece."

"That's true," Mason huffed out, almost in disgust.

"And they seem to share the connection."

"Who told you that?" The anger was back, blazing in Mason's eyes. "Peter," he eventually spat out.

Marcus actually laughed. "Peter is most disappointed with you, Mason. It seems you have made some promises to him you are unable to keep, and I hear he is no longer welcomed in the great Dauntless mansion."

"Peter is rash and he made mistakes which I could not turn my back on, not this time. He has a new agenda now, and will, when the serum proves to be viable, have what he's always wanted."

"You know as well as I do that this connection, if it's the real thing, between Beatrice and Tobias, is the one thing we've been searching for, for years. This could change everything. Can you not picture it, Marcus, the magnitude of what could be?" Marcus could hardly contain his excitement.

"I don't give a shit about what could be!" Mason bristled with irritation. "That girl will never take over as leader of The Dauntless. And I will not see The Prior Group fall into her hands either. I need to get that 1% back from my father before he does something reckless and give it to the girl. Caleb was foolish not to take my offer for it in the first place. Damn children, not respecting their elders."

"You continue to be bitter over that. It happened, Mason…"

"The Dauntless and The Prior Group will never belong to Tris!" Mason spat her name out with a thump of his fist on the table. "I will make certain of that." He took a deep breath to calm himself after seeing a few other patrons glance their way.

They continued to eat in silence for a moment before Marcus broke the silence again. "I hear my boy has been causing some havoc again."

"Tobias?" Mason asked confused

"No. Eric."

"Oh, yes," Mason smiled, pleased. "The pictures he sent to Tobias were a particularly interesting play. It certainly messed with Tris' head."

Marcus nodded eagerly. "He is most creative."

"Yes, you taught him well, Marcus. What does he have planned next?"

"I have no idea. Eric has free rein over his actions. You don't want that to change, right?"

"No. The more on edge she is, the closer we can get." Mason nonchalantly commented. "Do you want to alter any of the plans, now that Tobias is involved with The Dauntless?"

"No," Marcus rushed out. "He made his choice, the wrong choice, and he'll have to live with that."

The conversation soon slipped into mundane topics and Amar slipped the headphones from his ears. The situation was spiraling out of control. It was obvious whatever Marcus had planned, Mason was deeply involved. It made him sick to his stomach to think Mason was aware of this Eric bastard who had tortured his niece and continued to torment her. How could someone do that? He shook his head in disgust as he started the car and left the side street he was parked on. He needed to meet again with Edward, and they needed to dig deeper into whatever Mason and Marcus had planned. Before it was too late.

…

Tris gave an involuntary shiver as she entered the CCU. She hated hospitals. Hated the scent, the sound, and feel of hospitals. All these emotions brought on memories she'd like to forget. She'd been assured she was unconscious when brought here eight years ago, but smelling that antiseptic, bacteria killing aroma, hearing the buzz and bleeps of machinery, gave her flashes of something, images mainly, that made her think she wasn't as out of it as they claimed.

She saw Four standing before the wide window of a patient room, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his feet planted shoulder width apart, his eyes intent on what was inside the room. He looked worried, his body tense and his brow creased. A beat passed before he sensed her and turned, his eyes finding her instantly. His fear passed between them and her heart fluttered. He felt so much. He was hurting because of the girl in that room, and because of her. She crossed the space separating them and he folded her into his arm and held on tight. _She was okay,_ was his only thought. Tris pulled back and lifted her hand to cup his chin. "Are you okay?"

"I will be," he answered, his voice hard. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For doing as I asked, for trusting in me."

"Yeah, well, we'll talk about that later, buddy," she retorted, her eyes hard for a moment before they softened again. The fear, the pain she'd felt emanating from him in waves made it impossible for her to stay angry. "I couldn't stay away," she said in reason to why she was here.

"I understand."

Tris stretched her body to place a soft kiss against his lips, chaste and restrained, then tilted his head to rest his forehead against hers. They stood like that for a few heartbeats, as always, each in sync with the other, before they turned at the same time to take in the figure in the hospital bed, surrounded by a doctor and nurse.

Tris wasn't sure what she'd been expected but the small woman still took her breath away. She had intravenous lines in both arms, giving her much needed fluids, medication, and blood. Even through the window, Tris could see the cuts to her upper shoulders and knew there would be similar marks on her once perfect skin, in places most people wouldn't think. She shuddered as she wondered what this girl had gone through, was it identical to what she herself had been through? Or had he altered his routine? Would she hold the same scars that Tris did? She was concerned for this poor soul. Most of her own scars were because of how long she'd spent in that dining room, scars the healing tubs of The Dauntless couldn't remove from her body. But this girl's wounds were still relatively fresh, they could be healed and leave her body unmarred.

"We have to take her to the house," she rushed out.

"What?"

"She needs our technology, our healing gunk to stop her body from showing what happened to her for the rest of her life. If she's ever gonna come to terms with it… facing the visual proof in mirror every day is not going to help."

"Tris, we can't move her," Four said with sorrow. The emotions rolling off her were overwhelming to him. She was hurt, sad, and feeling responsible for this stranger, but above all, she was angry. Angry that he had done it again to another poor girl, using her as he did and then leaving her for dead.

"You should have just brought her to the house in the first place," she criticized.

"Maybe I should have but instinct and training took over and I called the police first. She was in my bed, in my apartment. I needed to follow procedure if I didn't want to lose my job," he reasoned. They both knew that for now, it was more important for Four to be inside the CPD to keep tabs on what they knew.

Tris understood this but it didn't make her feel any better. "What's her prognosis?"

"She's still alive," Four answered simply. "She lost a lot of blood, but all organs are intact."

Tris swallowed nervously. "What she shot?"

"No, not this time. Just a lot of deep wounds. He wanted her to bleed to death."

 _Just like my father,_ she thought. "Was she?... Did he?" She scolded herself for still struggling to say the word.

"Yes," Four answered her, knowing full well what she was asking. "Multiple times."

Tris shuddered again, her heart bleeding for this girl. "Why is he doing this?"

Four was surprised at how vulnerable she sounded, and his pulled her tight to his side. "He's doing this to taunt us, to taunt you. We will catch him, Tris. I can promise you that."

"Yeah, but how many more girls will we find before we do? I'm not sure how much more of this I can take, Four. I can take anything he throws at me, at The Dauntless, but these poor girls, they are not involved in any of this. They shouldn't have to suffer."

They paused in their conversation when a doctor emerged from the room. He was tall and beefy with sandy colored hair and a day's worth stubble over his chin. His eyes were bright blue and held a compassion that Tris knew meant he wasn't hoping out much hope for the young girl in the room.

"Well?" Four stepped forward, eager for some good news.

The doctor scanned his eyes to Tris, unsure whether this woman was cop or civilian.

"It's okay, Dr. Covington, we can talk in front of her," Four told him.

"She's in a bad way, Detective," Dr. Covington stated. "The cuts on her body are horrendous. You are aware she was raped, repeatedly, over numerous days, and left for dead."

Four nodded his acknowledgment. He knew far too much about how she'd been left for dead. "Is there anything that could give us something on who did this to her?"

The doctor nodded. "There was a trace of semen found, your partner took it for DNA testing."

Four scowled. _How had he missed that?_

"That's good, though, right?" Tris said in an eager voice beside him, her eyes dashing from one man to the other. She deflated a little when Four's expression was not overly hopeful. She tried to remember back to the girl found in her old dining room. "Was semen found on the other girl?"

"Tris…" Four started, but she quickly cut him off. "It was, wasn't it. Why didn't you tell me?"

"We didn't make a match on it, it seemed fruitless to tell you," he told her, wanting to move her away from the doctor listening to them.

"Why?" Her voice was hard, annoyed to have been left out of the loop again. Then she paused, realization flowing over her. She shook slightly as she asked, "Was there semen found on me?"

"Tris…" Four did not want to have this conversation here, to talk about her own crime scene in front of this stranger. He again tried to move her away.

"There was, wasn't there?" Tris said in understanding. "Oh God, I think I'm gonna vomit."

"Come, sit down," Four instructed as the doctor mumbled something about a glass of water and moved away.

"What else are you not telling me?

Four swallowed nervously. She had done what he asked her, she had trusted him to make the right decision. Now it was time to trust her. "There have been others, Tris. Other girls who have died over the last eight years in exactly the same way."

"He kept going? Kept killing?" Tris was struggling to understand.

"It would appear so."

"I can't believe this." She swallowed nervously and then smiled slightly as the doctor handed a cup of water before he hurried off. "How many?"

"Tris..."

"No, please, I need to know."

"Why? What good will it do you to know what this sick bastard has done." Four couldn't help himself from wanting to protect her, to keep the gruesome details to himself even though she knew as much about her crime scene as he did.

"I know what he's done, Four. I know that all too well," she said harshly, echoing his own thoughts. "I want to know how many he's done it to? How many lives has he taken?"

"And I'll ask again, what good would that do you?" His voice was just as harsh as hers, frustrated with her insistence on knowing everything, especially things that could hurt her. "Apart from make you feel even more guilty for something that has nothing to do with you."

"It has everything to do with me," she yelled out to him, her voice raising in the stark surrounding of the hospital hallway. They were interrupted by a nurse as she scurried out of the patient room. "Doctor, Detective, she's awake!"

Four and Tris shared an anxious look before they headed into the room, Dr. Covington beating them by nanoseconds.

Four entered carefully, aware the girl would be extremely anxious and frightened, and watched as the doctor and nurse fussed about her for a minute or two before Dr. Covington turned to him. "A few minutes, Detective, that's all she'll be able to give you at this time." Dr. Covington knew this man had waited longer than any other law enforcement officer he'd met would have. And judging from the conversation he'd overheard, this case hit a little too close for comfort for the woman with the detective.

Four cautiously stepped forward. "Hi," he greeted, his voice low. "I'm Detective Eaton and I wondered if I could talk to you for a moment."

The broken figure in the bed switched her eyes anxiously between him and the doctor before nodding weakly, her eyes fixing on Four and never leaving him.

"He won't hurt you again, I can assure you of that," Four stated firmly.

"Can you?" her voice was weak and muffled slightly from the painkillers swimming around her system.

"Yes." Four offered her a weak smile. "What's your name?

"Lexi, Lexi Murphy."

"Hi Lexi. What can you tell me about what happened to you? What did the man look like?"

Lexi closed her eyes. "He's tall, dirty blond hair, muscular." She snapped her eyes open again. "He said he was practicing, refining his art."

"Why?"

"So he was ready," she replied. Her gaze now shifted to Tris who had stayed by the door. "Ready for you," she finished.

"For me," Tris exclaimed. "How do you know it's for me?"

"He has your photos all over his apartment," Lexi said. "Horrible, disgusting photos." She shuddered the memory before locking her eyes with Tris again.

"He's going to kill you."

…


	43. Chapter 43

Hey everyone, Happy Wednesday!

These two weeks seem to have gone by so fast, I hope they do for you all as well.

Thanks to my guest reviewers, you rock!

Extra big and special thanks to cjgwilliams and her betaing-on-the-run skills here, you remain, as always, awesome!

I'm not gonna waste anymore of your time, lovely readers, get on with Chapter 43.

* * *

Chapter 43

Four scowled at the stack of file folders waiting on for him as he rounded his desk in the bullpen of C.P.D. He looked over to Jason. "Are these the reports on the like crimes?" He didn't need to elaborate on which crimes he was talking about.

"Yep," Jason answered, his own gaze landing on the documents. "I did a quick look see. They all died identically. This is inter-state. Why this was never picked up by the feds is beyond me."

Four couldn't agree more as he glanced through the files. The only thing he could think off was The Dauntless didn't want law enforcement digging too deeply into the Priors' murder, and Tris' torture, in fear they would uncover more than they bargained for. And that meant The Dauntless, or someone within the organization, had his fingers in some very deep pots.

"I called the hospital," Jason continued. "Lexi Murphy had a comfortable night. All observations remain stable and the medics are optimistic." He paused before adding. "Your girl was there this morning, visiting."

Four looked sharply at Jason. Tris hadn't mentioned she was going to check in at the hospital before work, but after their talk with Lexi the night before, he honestly couldn't see her staying away.

 _He's going to kill you._

Those words had shot terror through him, and a look at Tris told him she felt the same, but she quickly schooled her features and turned the conversation back to Lexi, to getting information from her they could use. His heart swelled, knowing she was pushing down her own fear to try and help this girl.

Fifteen girls killed in the last eight years. Lexi Murphy would have made it sixteen. One thing was for certain; this fucker hadn't been waiting around to come into contact with Tris again. Lexi had confirmed what they suspected, that Eric had done this to her. But her recollection of his chilling words of 'practice' and 'to be ready' were stuff of nightmares and Four could feel Tris shudder from across the room.

He remembered the conversation between the two girls from the night before. "We will get him," he told Lexi sincerely, but he knew his words were meant for Tris, and from the look in her eye, she understood exactly what he meant.

"I'm sorry this happened to you." Tris had whispered

"He did this to you as well, didn't he?" Lexi knew. Maybe it was the photographs she'd said were in Eric's apartment, or maybe it was an innate feeling of understanding, of both being victims of the same predator that had the younger girl connect with Tris

"Yes," Tris confirmed. "But I survived, and so will you. It may not seem like it right now, but you will survive."

Lexi had sniffled, trying to hold back her tears as she lifted a hand to a covered wound on her shoulders. "Do you have scars?" Her voice was timid as she asked the question.

"Yes," Tris acknowledged. "A lot of them. Scars that remind me of where I've been, but they don't dictate where I'm going. Don't let them dictate you, or he's won."

At the reappearance of his partner, accompanied with another detective from their precinct, Four had left Tris to talk with Lexi, feeling they would talk easier without him in the room.

"Jones," Four greeted with a nod of his head. The fellow detective was a couple of inches shorter than him, his hair inky black and his chin square cut and covered with a smattering of facial hair. Four knew why the man was here. At least the captain had sent good cop, a cop who held the same integrity as he had.

Colin Jones nodded his own head in return, his blue eyes sorrowing his regret for his presence there. "You know why I'm here," he said simply. "I need to clarify your whereabouts for the last couple of days."

Four knew this would be coming but he still bristled at having to explain himself to a fellow cop. He'd assumed this conversation would have taken place with his captain, not a colleague. "I was either at work or with my girlfriend," he answered curtly.

"And your girlfriend is…?" Jones probed, though his eyes flashed to Tris through the window into the victim's room.

"Tris Prior."

"And she can provide an alibi? Is there any security surveillance that will verify this?"

"Yes, to both," Four ground out.

He cast his gaze over to Caleb, who was still hanging around after bringing Tris to the hospital, and at his nod, Four continued. He knew Mason wouldn't want the C.P.D. invading his domain at the Prior Estate, and hoped Caleb would be able to assist Jones in a way that would help clear him of any crime while keep the secrecy of The Dauntless intact.

"I can help you with those tapes," Caleb offered as he moved closer to the three men.

"And you are?" Jones asked.

"Caleb Prior. Tris' brother. I can access the security and confirm Detective Eaton was indeed at the house during the times in question."

"Okay," Jones said with a nod. "Let's go then."

Caleb gazed back at his sister, sitting on the corner of the bed in the patient room, before turning and following Detective Jones. He didn't need to ask Four about keeping her safe. He knew the other man would do so with his last breath if need be.

They had stayed at the hospital another half hour, until the nurses kicked them out, and were silent on their way home, both lost in their own thoughts.

…

The next day, Tris caught herself staring into nothing again, her mind still at the hospital and not on her workload. She'd called in before heading into the office, checking Lexi was still alive, and was happy to hear the younger girl had a somewhat peaceful night. Tris knew that wouldn't last. While she was medicated in the health center, yes, she wouldn't dream, wouldn't relive her nightmare. But once that medication lowered, her sub consciousness would forever remind her of the trauma she had lived through. Her life would never be the same. She reached over to her intercom and buzzed for George.

"Yes, Ms. Prior?" George's smooth tone calmed her as always.

"Can I see you a moment?"

George didn't answer, his usual response when she asked for him, and a moment later he pushed through her door, notepad in hand.

"There's a girl at Northwestern Memorial, Lexi Murphy. I want you to contact the billing department and have all her bills sent to me. I want this to continue for all medical needs relating to her current admission."

"The Group account or personal?" George asked, part wondering who this girl was and why his boss was taking an interest in her, and part knowing Tris had a big heart and would do all she could to help others.

"Personal," she instructed, mentally making a note to ask Jack for the name of a good therapist Lexi could work with. She knew Lexi would need one eventually.

An hour or so later, Uncle Harry breezed into her office. "Tris, I know you've got a lot on your plate but, the auction, are you in or out?"

Tris exhaled loudly. The auction for the Stand Strong Foundation was something she'd organized months ago, a foundation dear to her heart. It was her Uncle Harry who had the brilliant idea of adding her name to the list of eligible people to auction in the name of a good cause. Now, she felt the weight of it, something she'd never experienced before. Did she really want to attend an upscale party while there was a sick individual somewhere intent on making her life a misery? On the other hand, she'd never let her fear dictate her actions before.

"You know what? Yes, I'm on board. I'll add my name to the list."

"Tris," Uncle Harry's eyes turned sympathetic. "You don't have to do this."

"I know, but if I don't, then he's won, and I'll be dead before that happens." Tris felt the anger build in her again. Anger that she'd questioned her own actions because of _him_.

"What about Four? How's he gonna take this news?" Harry pressed carefully.

Tris remembered the conversation they'd had about this at the lake in the estate grounds. He'd not been convinced it was a good idea, her having dinner with a complete stranger, but she'd reminded him she knew what Eric looked like. She mentally kicked herself; she had yet to comply with his wish to sit with a sketch artist for the police department. She could leave that to Lexi now, but was it fair to put the girl through another trauma when she was trying to recover what had happened to her.

"I'll talk to Four," she said, and then smile. "I wonder if he owns a tux. I bet he'd look ultra-hot in a tux."

"And it would appear I've lost you," Harry smiled. "Okay, talk to your man, do whatever you need to do so he doesn't punch out every guy who bids on you."

"It's a silent auction, Uncle Harry," she said slightly distractedly with a tux-clad Four roaming her thoughts. "He wouldn't know."

"And I think that's the portion of this whole thing he's not happy with," Harry theorized.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Why don't I take you and Four out for dinner tonight?" Harry offered. "Maybe I could help smooth things over. Besides, I haven't had my _'what are your intentions toward my niece'_ speech with him yet."

Tris laughed. "Have you made that speech often?"

"In my mind, yes. It's about time I had it with someone worthy."

Tris tilted her head, her gaze intent on her uncle. "And is Four worthy?"

"Do you think he is?" He countered with a wry smile.

"Oh yeah. Absolutely."

"Just what I thought." Harry stood and straightened his jacket. "8 o'clock at Joe's?"

"Oh, perfect," Tris smiled, Joe's being one of her all-time favorites.

Harry moved around the desk and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'll make the arrangements," he smiled. Joe's was a popular place and usually a reservation would need to be made months in advance. Unless, of course, your last name happened to be Prior. "Don't work too hard," were his parting words as he left to continue his own working day, happy he would be spending more time with Tris, and Four, that evening.

She smiled as Harry left her office, her hand reaching for her intercom once again. "George, what's the schedule like for today?"

"You have a board meeting with the Makoni project at 11, and a 3pm with a representative from The Gardner Foundation."

"Okay, thanks," she smiled as her hand reached for her cell set beside the keyboard. She hit speed dial and grinned when it was answered instantly.

"I was just thinking of you," Four's deep voiced vibrated down the phone.

"Having naughty thoughts at work again," she grinned and imagined him smiling too.

"All the time, babe."

"Good. You free for lunch?"

"As things stand, yes, I could carve time out of my incredibly busy schedule for you."

"Well, if your busy I could always make a date with Diego."

"Who the fuck is Diego?" He almost growled down the cell.

Tris laughed sweetly. "No one I know, Bear."

"Yeah, let's keep it that way. 12.30 at Millennium Park okay for you?"

"Sure."

"Okay, I'll get the food, you just bring yourself."

Tris strolled through the sunshine, her eyes darting over the Great Lawn, searching for Four. It had occurred to her when she had first entered the park they hadn't actually named a place to meet, but as she walked deeper into the park, she's felt a tingling spread throughout her body and let instinct take over and direct her. She was getting used to this internal GPS they seemed to have for each other, and she smiled when she saw him, half reclined on the grass, a large blanket spread beside him littered with food and bottles of water.

He glanced up as he too felt her closeness and a look passed between them. Hunger, need, and a sense of content and peacefulness. He smiled as she sauntered closer and he patted the blanket beside him.

"You want me to sit on the grass in this skirt?" She feigned shocked, knowing she would do whatever he asked.

"Oh, come on, Princess. Live a little," he smirked to her.

"Live a little," she echoed as she sank gracefully down on the soft mat. "If I'd known I'd have to cop a squat on the ground I wouldn't have worn a $3,000 skirt."

"Do you own anything that cost less than a grand?" He asked as he held out a bottle of water for her.

"Of course I do," she retorted, taking the water from him. "I own your ass," she grinned saucily.

"Oh harsh, Blondie. Real harsh."

She smiled sweetly as she leaned closer and brushed her lips across his. "Hi."

"Hey," he returned, their faces an inch apart. "How was your morning?"

Tris settled back onto her bottom. "Typical. I stopped in to see Lexi before work."

"I know. Jason called the hospital before I got in. She's doing well."

"It's gonna be a long road for her. But she's strong. She'll survive." Tris wasn't sure if she said these words because she felt them, or if because she needed to believe they were true. "I want to pay for her medical needs.

Four looked cautiously at her. "You don't have to do that."

"I know, it's just … I feel like I have to. I know I don't…" she continued quickly before he could say it again. "I just want to do all I can to help ease this for her. It's a lot, and when you don't have the backing like I did…"

"You mean your money?" Four probed.

"Yes, when you don't have the money I do, it can be incredibly hard. I want to help, that's all."

Four nodded, understanding her completely, as he stuffed a small, puffed meat pie into his face.

"Hey, do you own a tux?" She asked as she took a bit of the sandwich he'd bought for her.

"Why?" He asked, suspiciously narrowing his eyes at her.

"Because the charity function I've been organization is in a few days and I need to know if we have to go shopping," she said as she chewed.

"What charity function?" He asked, sitting upright a little more.

"You know," she mumbled with a wave of her hand. "We've talked about it."

Four looked over her shoulder, searching his mind for anything they had talked about the concerned a charity event. "Wait, you're not talking about the deal with the auction."

"Uh huh," she answered, her lips around the neck of the water bottle.

"Nope, not happening," he rushed out, shaking his head for emphasis.

"What?!" Her voice was cold and her gaze intent. Was he really trying to tell her what to do? Again?

"Yes, we talked about it," Four acknowledged, "and I think I said something along the lines of not liking the idea my girlfriend being bought for the night by a complete stranger, and the fact there's a fucker out there who wants to hurt you." His voice rising as he spoke.

"Yes, you did," Tris conceded. "And I think I responded with, I know what this guy looks like and I'm not about to go off into some dark, dank place with him. As to the part about you not liking me being bought. It's for a good cause, Four. For an organization I chair that helps people overcome trauma in their life. Something that Lexi could benefit from. So, do you have a tux?"

"No, I don't own a damn tux," Four grumbled, knowing he wasn't going to win this one. He knew if she'd set her mind on this, he wouldn't be able to dissuade her. And, truthfully, would he want to? Yes, he was concerned about her security during the auction, and the meal set up with the winner, but this was completely her. Doing something to help others. Others who had been through something like she had. Her need to help overcoming her own fear.

"Okay, mister, no need to get testy," Tris retorted. "This is gonna happen whether you like it or not. I did what you asked, I trusted you and let Uriah and Will 'protect' me and take me home. Now, that trust goes two ways, pal, and I'm asking you to trust me."

Four almost sulked, thoroughly chastised. "Can I bid on you?"

"No," she laughed. "What I give you I don't give anyone else."

"Damn straight," he grinned. "Tris, I do trust you, you know this. I'm just not happy about it, is all. It scares me that I can't protect you, frustrates me that you won't let me protect you. And all the time… he could be anywhere, Tris, and we would never know it."

"I would know it if he was close, trust that, Four," she said firmly, putting an end to that line of conversation. "So, how was your day?"

"Reamed by the captain, but my alibi sticks so…"

"Yeah, they wouldn't dream to go against Mason Prior."

They finished lunch with generally conversation and Four watched as Tris packed their trash to be dropped in a can on their way out the park.

"Okay, so I'll meet you at the station when I'm done," she said as they prepared to part.

"Why?"

"Tux shopping, Bear," she answered with a smile. "I'll call ahead. Leonardo has hands like soft leather, and he'll love you."

"Leonardo?" He gulped.

"Don't worry, Bear. Everyone is a little nervous at their first tux fitting."

…

At the Prior estate, Caleb settled himself under a tree in the vast expanse of gardens that graced the Prior Estate. Beside him were set a couple of the leather bound journals he'd found outside his door before his frantic trip to the hospital. He'd itched to delve into the world of Alys Ritter but his concern over Tris had delayed that. He'd shown and given Detective Jones security images that proved Four was at home during the time that poor girl, Lexi, had been raped and tortured. Then waited for his sister to come home from the hospital.

She'd been pale and a little withdrawn when she and Four finally walked through into the large house, and Caleb had held her tight while she wept for someone she didn't know. He knew that would change. He knew his sister well enough to know she would take a keen interest in the girl's life from now on. Today she had taken herself off to work, determined to lose herself in a few hours behind her desk, doing whatever she did for the Prior Group and he'd at least found to time to look at what had been dropped before him.

Ten minutes later, he felt a little dejected. All he'd read so far where the girlish hopes and dreams of a young woman. She'd been born in a small town in Indiana, the second daughter, and fifth child, of locally prominent parents. She'd been schooled well and expected to marry well–this was evident in her wishes for her perfect husband. She also spoke about the Civil War, or as she called it, the Great Rebellion, and the fear that her brother and father would not return safely from the fighting. Typical fears of a young girl during the years of war, Caleb thought.

Caleb set the journal down and shifted slightly on the grass, relieving the numbness in his ass. He knew there had to be something in this journals he was looking for, or why would he have been given them? He rested his head back on the tree, not really wanting to delve back into the thoughts of a teenage girl. It had been bad enough living with a teenage girl, he didn't need the hassle of hearing one's inner thoughts. His thoughts stopped abruptly. His life dealing with a teenage girl had ended quickly when their parents had been murdered and his sister raped for days. Her life had changed completely and so had his. With that in mind, he opened the journal again.

 _August, 1863_

 _I think there is something wrong with me, seriously wrong. I think a demon has possessed me. I can do things others can not, move things with just a thought in my head. I am scared. Terrified even. Who can I talk to about this? It would seem as though I'm all alone in this world with this terrible burden. There is no one who can help me. Lord, please save me._

Caleb looked up, a smile spreading on his face. Bingo! Finally, something interesting was happening. This poor girl thought she was possessed with demons because of her divergence. He couldn't comprehend the fear she must have been going through. He guessed it was bad enough learning of these skills in this day and age, but in past century, where anything that couldn't be explained was put down to demons and the devil… Shaking his head he turned his attention back to the journal.

…

 _October, 1863_

 _Today all my worries are eased. I am not possessed by demons; I am so much more. I am what they called Divergent, a person with the ability to move the very air, to manipulate, and to control it. I have been asked to join an organization that helps to protect to people of this nation. It is something of a calling. I am not alone in this ability, there are many others. I will no longer be alone._

Caleb could almost feel this happiness in Alys with this entry. That acceptance she had longed for throughout her formative years, she now received. Even her handwriting seemed lighter, girlier, at her jubilance at no longer being alone. Of belonging to something special. Of being needed.

…

 _November, 1863_

 _I have met some of the most enigmatic people I believe I will ever met. The leader of the Divergents, a group that call themselves The Dauntless, is Gabriel Prior. He is a handsome man, dignified, and elegant. He was so gracious to me, welcoming me into the company warmly. The people are open and friendly, already I feel at home here, feel as though I have found my family._

Caleb smiled. He'd heard tales from his grandfather about Gabriel Prior and how incredibly charismatic he'd been. Alys entry confirmed that.

…

 _January, 1864_

 _I have met someone. He is the most handsome man I have ever met and he makes my heart flutter even as I write this. His name is Jonathan but most call him Nat. His father is Gabriel, our leader, and we long to be together. He says he will ask his father for permission to marry me. I am beyond excited. I have never felt like this before. I have thrown all caution to the wind and allowed this man, his one person who stirs me like no other, to kiss me. He holds me in his arms as if I am made of glass, delicate and easy to break, though we both know I possess great power, maybe even greater than him._

 _My cheeks are flushed as I write this but his kiss sends a pulse rushing through my body, a throbbing that centers around my sex and makes me think wicked things, things a girl should not before the bonds of marriage. I am scared because I want him like no other I have met. I want to take him between my thighs and receive all the pleasure I know he could give me. There is a burning inside me whenever I think of him._

Caleb felt heat rush into his cheeks at these words. He felt he was invading her privacy, and, in truth, knew he was, but her words stirred him. To know, intimately, what this girl felt for Jonathan Prior was something he'd never experienced. Even with living with girls; a sister and some he considered sisters, he had never heard anyone talk like this. Her love for Jonathan must have been great.

Caleb struggled to remember his family tree but did remember a Jonathan, a man who'd died young if he remembered right.

…

 _February, 1864_

 _Dear God, what I have I done. I have given myself to Nat. I could not help it. The passion for him inside me burned too great and I had to give in, I had to let him ease that red-hot need within me. It was most glorious. I did not believe a man and woman can create such passion, such wanton need for the other. I am overwhelmed by my need for him. Even now as I write this, hours after we coupled, I feel that burning, that passion rising in me again. It is as though I have to have him again or I will die. I will die without his body against mine, his fingers caressing my fevered skin, his manhood rutting into my sex with such a demanding pace I feel as though I could not survive it. I want him, his body, his heart, his soul._

 _I feel him everywhere, even when we are not together. I know if he's in the next room, or down the corridor. My body tingles for him, as if my very essence can not settle until I lay my eyes on him. I feel stronger with him, my ability more settled, more fluid. It is beyond everything I could imagine and I hope it never ends. I crave him, like a man craves oxygen._

Caleb swallowed. There is was. The connection between Alys and Nat sounded like the connection between Tris and Four. Of course, without knowing how Nat felt, or indeed how Tris and Four feel emotionally, he could only go on what he sees, and what he feels when he sees the two of them together and the intricate way they work together. He had thought his sister and her boyfriend were the first to have this connection but obviously they weren't.

He wished he'd taken more interest in his great-grandfather's tales of The Dauntless when he'd been very small, but it was hard to listen to such things when you're five. He vaguely wondered if his grandfather remembered anything, his head twisting to look at the ordinary brink house in the far east of the estate grounds. _One more entry,_ he thought. Then he'd go and visit with his grandfather.

…

 _March, 1864_

 _There is an elder here who unnerves me. He looks at me as though he knows all my secrets, that he knows what I have been doing with Nat, that we love as man and wife. He also looks at me as if he wants to devour me. Last night, I expressed my concerns to Nat and he told me to stay away from Zacharias. Even Nat does not trust him, though his own father is great friends with Zacharias. Gabriel and Zacharias work tirelessly in The Dauntless, protecting their agents and maintaining the organization, but still. I am worried something is amiss within The Dauntless._

This entry concerned Caleb. Who was this Zacharias and why did he worry Alys? And she thought something was wrong with The Dauntless, after being so full a praise a year earlier. What had changed? There was one thing he knew for certain. After reading some of Alys journals, he had more questions than he started with. And who could he go to for the answers?


	44. Chapter 44

Happy Happy Wednesday! Hope all is good for everyone out there.

Huge apologies for missing my update deadline. RL really grabbed me by the horns and gave me a horrific shake, but all is as it should be now and I hope never have to do that again. Thanks to those who sent pm's with well wishes, you all made me glow to know there are nice, considerate people out there.

To the guest reviewer who had just finished their exams and was expecting an update, sorry, I hope your exams went well.

Special thanks, as ever, to my beta cjgwilliams for always understanding and I hope you are feeling better. (Side whisper) - And yes, cigarettes are not the best for an asthmatic, chocolate is way better.

I hope some of the content in this chapter makes up for the lack of update. Enjoy...

* * *

Chapter 44

Once again, Amar settled into the worn, cracked leather seat of a booth in Carol's Bar, the dive that played country music that was the place of choice for his covert meetings with Edward. His partner in this venture had arrived before him and Amar found a longneck waiting for him.

"Thanks," Amar said in greeting and lifted the bottle in salute before taking a long draw.

"I don't have long," Edward informed him, his head swiveling again nervously to make sure nothing had changed in the last five minutes. "I don't like meeting here," he added. "Maybe next time we could meet in the park."

"Whatever," Amar agreed, knowing this place made Edward uncomfortable and admitted, at first, it had giving him a perverse jolly to insist on meeting here. Now, things were different, more intense with a feeling of running out of time. Amar would meet wherever Edward wanted as long as they were on the same page and after the same goal.

"What did you find out?" Edward asked, angling his upper body more toward Amar in an attempt to keep their conversation between just them.

"A lot," Amar murmured. "This goes way further than you or I thought."

Edward just nodded at his words, having suspected as much for a while now.

"Jeanine is involved," Amar told him and Edward inhaled at the name. In his opinion Jeanine Matthews thought too much of herself, of her own importance in the world, and that created an unstable woman to him. Amar laid out all he had heard at the meeting between Mason and Marcus.

"Jeanine is still dabbling in things she doesn't clearly understand," Amar finished. "This serum she's working on could, potentially, take away a person's free will, make them drones to a higher power. That is not something The Dauntless needs to get into."

"I couldn't agree more," Edward nodded. "And Mason is on board with this?"

"It would appear so. And when you add Marcus Eaton into the mix… nothing good can come of this."

"What are we going to do? Who can we trust with this?"

After a few beats, Amar said, "Tris and Four."

"They have so much going against them at the moment. With her abuser back in the picture," Edward murmured with a shake of his head.

"Which is not a coincidence," Amar added.

"No, I don't think so either. Someone wants her distracted so she doesn't sniff out any plans," Edward theorized.

"And Four with her," Amar agreed. He swallowed nervously, about to voice thoughts he'd so far kept to himself. "If Mason is in this with Marcus and Jeanine and Marcus knows who killed Andrew and Natalie, and raped Tris, then it's a good bet Mason knows too."

Edward felt the bile rise in this throat as Amar voiced what he'd suspected for a long time. How could a human being arrange that for someone? Never mind that someone being a family member, a young innocent girl.

"He will burn in Hell for what's he's done," Edward ground out.

"Damn straight he will," Amar agreed. "Who else can we trust with this?" Amar shook his head. "This is gonna pull that family apart."

"Caleb?" Edward asked.

Amar shook his head. "Caleb still needs a little nudge in the right direction. He's getting there, but he needs a little more time."

Edward thump his fist on the cracked wood table. "We don't have time."

"I know," Amar shot back, just as frustrated as Edward.

"How about Zeke? He would do anything for Tris and The Dauntless," Edward asked.

"Zeke and Uriah both," Amar agreed. "They would be my best guess. And Matthew would help any way he can."

"And Tori and Christina," Edward added. "There's a great deal of people within The Dauntless who would sacrifice themselves to stop anyone from hurting one of their own."

Amar nodded his head, agreeing completely with Edward as his mind conjured ways to have private talks with the small list of people they knew would be on their side.

…

Four climbed out of the limousine with an amused smile. This was the first time he'd been to an event like this and he was mildly intrigued about the ins and outs of a society fundraiser. He tugged on his jacket slightly as he turned and extended an arm back into the car to help Tris out.

Her hand slid gracefully into his as she stepped out, the fabric of her dress whispering around her legs as she moved. She turned and smiled at him. The vision of Tobias Eaton in a tuxedo was something that seemed to make her bones melt. His suit fit perfectly, as she expected it would, the dark fabric against the stark white of the dress shirt making him seem like some exquisitely dressed god rather than a humble detective. The lapels of the jacket shimmered in the light and the slim cut of his trousers showcased his ass to perfection, to the point Tris wanted to do nothing but sink her teeth into the hard flesh. Shaking her head to rid herself of the naked image of Four, she moved closer to the steps of the museum as Caleb exited the car. Lights flashed in every direction as the press took their opportunity to snap the Vice President of The Prior Group and the founder of the charity that would benefit from the evening's proceedings.

Tris smiled as she slipped the silver wrap from her shoulders and handed it off to George; her ever faithful assistant to seemed to appear and disappear as if by magic. She was wearing a pale, mint green dress with a high neckline. The dress was held up by two extremely thin straps over her shoulders and flowed all the way to the floor, the soft material draped around her body sensually. A split in the skirt showed a generous amount of leg, the opening finishing high on her thigh. Tris' blonde hair was pulled up in a French twist, a diamond clip holding it in place, as curling tendrils haphazardly escaped it, which added an air of allure to her outfit.

"What?" Tris asked when she looked at Four to see him staring at her.

"You're beautiful," he gushed out.

She flashed him her dazzling smile and turned slowly on the spot to give him the full effect of her dress. Her beautifully sophisticated dress had absolutely no back to it at all, and the elegant lines of her back were on display for all to see, scars as well.

"Did you really expect her not to show some skin?" Caleb grinned when he noticed Four's gaze fall on all that exposed skin. "This is Tris we are talking about."

Tris threaded her arms through one of Four's and one of Caleb's and propelled them forward, pausing briefly for a few photographs before hustling them into the building. She had time in her life for a lot of things but dealing with the paparazzi at events like these were not one of her favorite things.

Caleb moved smoothly through the vast hall of the event space hired for the evening by The Prior Group. He'd left Tris in the capable hands of Uncle Harry and he and Four and splintered off to find drinks and see what had been donated for the silent auction. The Chicago Room and Robinson Gallery at the Chicago History Museum were ideal for the elegance of the charity auction Tris had organized, and as usual, she had certainly done it in style. The Georgian style architecture whispered of a bygone era and Caleb felt the sophistication ooze into him. Maybe he'd been spending too much time reading Alys Ritter's journals because he could almost imagine the woman whose life he was learning about feeling at ease in rooms like these.

He shook his head, willing his imagination away, as he focused on the here and now. A string quartet was playing softly in a corner, and happy conversation was taking place around him. Faces were glowing with the effects of the champagne and he was sure money was flowing as patrons bid on the prizes available. He again looked over to several tables that showcased what was on offer and his eyes landed on the watch that had caught his attention the first time he spied it. He glided over to the table again, smiling and nodding at people he knew as he went. He picked up the Rolex and again balked at the suggested bid. Even for him it was a hell of a lot of moolah and he'd been known to spend crazy money on ridiculous things. How anyone could justify spending that much money on watch a baffled him, but he did admit the time piece was outstanding. Black and sleek and top of the range.

"Now that's a watch," he heard from over his shoulder and Caleb turned to see Four's dumbfounded expression.

"Yeah, it's a beauty, all right," Caleb agreed as he placed the watch back on the table.

"So all these things have been donated to raise money for the charity?" Four asked, waving his hand toward the tables.

"Yep. It's amazing what people will give up if they think they're doing good."

"There's a boat, Caleb. A fricking boat!"

Caleb turned to take in the picture of a large sailing yacht displayed on a gilded holder. "It's a yacht, Four," he grinned. "Top of the range, too."

"And someone just said 'Hey, have my yacht, I don't need it anymore'?"

"Rich people will spend millions if they think it will promote their name. They buy the yacht and donate it to a charity and get their name on some benefactor's board somewhere."

"Rich people are crazy," Four concluded, half amazed this was a world Caleb had grown up in, a world where Tris seemed to reign supreme. He could feel her, feel her happiness at the apparent success of the evening, though there was an edginess to her as well, an apprehension or wariness as she greeted certain people. He vaguely wondered if she'd taken his concerns about her being one of the prizes on offer tonight and she was on alert because of it. He watched as she was stopped by an older man, tall and lean with snow white hair and a pinched face.

Tris smiled as she was greeted by Howard Skinner, patriarch of the Skinner family and their Foundation. "Ms. Prior, you look more beautiful every time I see you. Thank you for the most generous donation to the Foundation you made recently."

"Don't mention it, Mr. Skinner. The Prior Group is always ready to help. There are so many who benefit from your Foundation," Tris schmoozed, a dazzling smiling lighting up her face.

Howard Skinner turned and motioned forward someone from the group behind him. "Beatrice, you remember my grandson, Logan?"

Tris grimaced inwardly while keeping her smile as Logan stepped closer, his blue eyes sparkling as they locked with hers. "Of course, I remember him." She offered her hand to the 30-something standing in front of her. "It's good to see you again, Logan."

The handsome man smirked to her, his blonde goatee neatly trimmed, his clothes pristine, and he turned over her hand, lifting it higher. "Tris, you are looking exquisite as always," he replied before brushing his lips against the back of her hand, lingering a few seconds too long.

"Logan, why don't you escort Beatrice to get a drink?" Howard suggested.

"It would be my pleasure," Logan agreed quickly, not letting go of Tris' hand, instead tucking it into the crook of his arm and turning Tris in the right direction. Tris was far from stupid. She knew Howard Skinner was trying to forge a connection between the two great families, but she was gracious enough not to make a scene during the event.

"It's been a while, Tris," Logan's smooth voice reached her ears. He leaned a little closer to her ear, "You remember last year's Skinner Foundation Benefit?"

Tris rolled her eyes at his question though she smiled fondly. "Yeah, I remember," she returned. "But don't expect a repeat performance."

"Ahh, c'mon, Tris. We both know how boring and stuffy these functions can get," Logan moaned lightly, keeping his volume down so the couples around them didn't hear as they moved through the space.

"Not gonna happen, Logan," Tris whispered from the corner of her mouth as they approached some of the older members of Chicago society.

"Never say never," he grinned back. They both paused as their names were called, and Logan leaned in closer as a photographer snapped a couple of pictures.

Tris scanned the room, eager to escape Logan, and smiled when her eyes fell on Tyler Andrews. "Sorry, Logan, but one of my board members is across the room, and I have something I must discuss with him."

"Tris," Logan whined.

Tris patted him on the chest. "Go have your fun with someone else, Logan. I have a boyfriend." And she moved quickly from him and over in the direction of Tyler, catching Caleb by his elbow as she past him and pulling him with her. "Never leave me alone with Logan Skinner again," she hissed.

"But I thought you guys were "friends"," Caleb actually used air quotes, a teasing grin forming on his lips.

"Yeah, but I think his grandfather is hoping for a little more than friendship," she ground out.

"Oh, a merger with The Prior Group and The Skinner Family Foundation," Caleb grinned. "Something that involves a prenup?"

"Yeah, and me losing half my assets. Not gonna happen," she stated fiercely. "Besides, I think Four might have something to say about it."

"Yeah, I wonder how Logan would square up against Four," Caleb barked out with laughter.

"Oh please, Logan isn't even in the same league as Four," she finished. "Now, go find someone else to annoy."

"I thought you didn't want to be left alone?" Caleb replied smugly.

"True," she relented, her eyes searching the hall. "Let's hit the bar."

"Now you're talking," Caleb agreed, grabbing hold of her hand and moving them in the direction of the long bar.

Four smiled politely at the older woman who was nattering in his ear about some hedge fund he had no clue about, his eyes lifting when he noticed a swish of mint green in the corner of his eye and felt Tris dance fingers across his bottom in a soft caress. He couldn't stop his grin. He loved she would touch him so personally in a public place and he turned quickly, muttering a quick apology to the woman before him, to catch Tris' hand and stop her from moving off.

Tris smiled as she turned to face him and settled easily at his side. "I hope you're enjoying the evening, Mrs. Scott," she smiled to the elegant woman Four had been talking to.

"Delightful as ever, my dear," Mrs. Scott beamed back. "I do hope my yacht brings in some substantial money for your charity. Such a worthy cause."

"I'm sure it will. That yacht is a thing of beauty." Tris spoke effortlessly. "Do you mind if I steal Tobias a moment?"

"Of course, dear. Such a handsome man. You make a stunning couple."

"Thank you," Tris smiled sweetly as she led Four away. "There, I've saved you from being Mrs. Scott's sixth husband. You can thank me later."

"Oh, I intend to. You look completely ravishing in that dress. Have I told you?"

"Yes, but you can tell me again," she grinned as she moved them both onto the small area designed for dancing. Four pulled her tight against his body and whispered into her ear. "Shall I tell you what I intend to do to you when we get home?"

Tris shivered slightly with anticipating as she said softly, "Yeah."

"Well, first I'm gonna get you naked and then I'm gonna…"

"Beatrice, here you are," Mason interrupted, pulling Tris back from Four slightly. "I think it would be a good idea if you said some words." He spread his arms indicating to a podium set up at one end of the room.

"Uncle Mason, the evening is planned down to the last second," she said, irritation in her voice at him disturbing her moment with Four. "The speeches aren't due for anything thirty minutes."

"Oh, okay then. How about a dance with my beautiful niece?" he offered.

"Well, I'm…"

"That's okay, Tris," Four interrupted her. "I'll go get us some food. I'm starving."

"You sure?"

"Oh, let the boy go, Tris," Mason snapped.

"I'll catch you in five," she smiled to Four and then pressed her lips lingeringly to his, knowing this would irritate her uncle more. She turned from Four and stepped closer to her uncle, his arm slipping around her waist to hold her waltz style. They swayed with the music, doing a modified version of the traditional dance.

"You've been successful again, my dear," he beamed to her but it still felt false to Tris. "Despite the turmoil in your life at the moment, you've pull off an elegant event."

Tris bristled a little at his words. It could just be her imagination but she was sure his praises were double edged these days. His compliments always seemed to be followed by some biting remark, usually about the fact she was a woman.

"I can think of more than one thing at a time, Uncle Mason," she replied with a polite smile, determined not to let him dampen her mood.

"Of course you can," he said with his condescending smirk. "How are you handling things?"

"Things?" Tris probed as they turned gracefully in their dance.

"Yes. There's a lot of mayhem going on at the moment. Peter, the mysterious Mr. Black who seems intent on bringing The Dauntless down, the fact that your parents' murderer is back and showing his hand."

Tris inhaled deeply, seeming to know her uncle was pushing her buttons. "We can't alter the shit that's happening around us, Uncle Mason, we just have to learn to roll with the punches."

"But still…"

"I'm okay, Uncle Mason," she snapped out, not wanting to continue this conversation here. "Thanks for your concern but I'm doing okay."

"Have you talked to Jack recently?"

"My sessions with Jack are ongoing, now can we talk about something else." She was spared any further comment when her other uncle, Harry, interrupted them. "Mason, can I steal Tris a moment?" he asked, already stepping in and capturing Tris' hand in another dance hold.

"Of course," Mason answered curtly. "Congratulations again, Tris." And he turned and moved off to engage some matronly socialite in dance and conversation.

"Thanks," Tris grinned to Uncle Harry. "I don't know what's wrong with Uncle Mason these days, but he constantly seems to be having a dig at me. Always reminding me of my failures or of hurtful situations."

"Mason is an ass," Harry said pleasantly, and when Tris looked at him shocked, he added, "he's my brother. I'm allowed to say that."

Tris laughed at that, hugging her favorite uncle to her. "He is right, though," Harry continued. "This evening has been a roaring success. I think we've raised much more than originally planned. The Stand Strong Foundation with benefit greatly."

"That's what it's all about. I have been sold yet?" She didn't want to admit that it did make her a little nervous about who would buy a 'date' with her, but she was confident in her ability to control any situation that might arise because if it.

"I do believe so, and for a substantial price as well."

"Well, that doesn't make me feel like a whore in the least."

Harry bellowed loudly at the look of indignation on her face. "Tris, my precious pixie-child, you are my light and I thank every moment I have with you."

Tris grinned. "I love you, too, Uncle Harry."

The evening continued as planned with good food, fine wine, and engaging company. Tris felt like she danced with every male in attendance and her feet ached unremorsefully in her expensive shoes. She gave a gracious speech, thanking the patrons for their continued support, and of course, their money. Every item on offer had been sold and she reminded them they had three days to pay for their purchases, and to keep the date for next year. The night came to close as Tris and Four tumbled into the back of a limo for the drive home.

Tris smiled at Four as he settled back against the soft leather of the seat as the car pulled away and into traffic. "What?" he asked her, shooting his eyebrow up in question.

"I don't think I've told you how incredibly gorgeous you look in that tux," she grinned to him.

"I don't believe you have," he smirked back. "And after I told you how truly beautiful you look."

"Well, that's just damn inconsiderate of me," she murmured. "Let me correct that." She slid across the leather closer to him. "You are incredibly hot in those threads, Tobias," she purred into his ear, her fingers curling around the lapel of his black jacket. "In fact, so hot, I think you need to cool off a little," and she slipped her hands under the material of the jacket and pushed it from his shoulders.

"Tris," Four moaned, his head tipping forward and his lips latching onto her neck. Tris' hands caressed the soft silk of his dress shirt, and the unforgiving hardness of his muscles beneath it, as his hands wound around her body, his fingers trailing the bare skin of her back. When she trembled in his arms, he smiled against the skin of her throat.

She reached across him, her finger pressing forcefully on a button and the privacy glass behind the driver slid up. She pushed him back against the seat and moved gracefully onto his lap, pushing the fabric the skirt out of the way, grateful for the sinful silt. Her lips attached to his, kissing him fiercely, and her hands delved into his hair. Their tongues danced, dueled for dominance, as her hips ground into his. When she pulled back, breathless and with sparkling eyes, she grinned. "I've wanted to do that all evening."

Tris didn't let him say anything, instead she returned for another bruising kiss. She licked into his mouth, nibbled on his lips, stroked her tongue against his, determined to take her pleasure from him. She moaned into him when his large hands swept down her naked back, kneading her skin, before they moved around her waist and settled on her hips. With gentle pressure, he pushed against her. "What are you doing to me?" His voice was raspy with need and lust and a hand lifted to caress her cheek.

"I'm touching you," she answered, her fingers tracing the ridges of his abdomen and a slither of anticipation rippled through her. "And loving everything inch of you. I want you, Tobias."

Four gripped her wrists, pulling her hands from his stomach. "Later," he grinned, loving the fact he made her so reckless with need for him.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she said with a sly smile, "No one can see us."

"That's not the point," Four stalled her. "I want you comfortable when I take that dress off you, when I take you. You're gonna need it because you won't be able to move once I've finished with you."

"Promises, promises," Tris teased as she inched back to him, her lips latching onto his throat, the spot that made him growl low in his chest. "Have you never had sex in the back of a limo?"

"No. Have you?"

Tris looked away from him a moment, something similar to shame flashing in her eyes as they landed on the traffic rushing past them. The thought of all those people out there being oblivious to what was going on in the vehicle thrilled her. "There's a first time for everyone," she said as she turned back to him, understanding he knew this was not a first for her. She rocked her hips against his again, feeling the hard length of him growing within the confines of his exquisitely tailored dress pants. "I want you, Tobias," she repeated. "Please."

She bent her head, turning her face to his neck and inhaling his scent, which seemed all the more intoxicating with his arousal. "You drive me crazy," she whispered, her breath hot against his fevered skin.

"Right back atcha," he grounded out, the movement of her hips and her lips against his throat going straight to his dick. His hands cupped her face, lifting her to his lips. As they kissed, she reached for the fly of his trousers, freeing the buttons and unclasping the zipper. She made short work of releasing him from the material and then he was hard and heavy in her palm. She squeezed gently, her touch deliberately tender, and was rewarded with a groan halfway between pain and ecstasy. He was so hard and hot, and Tris echoed his groan as she slid her fist up his length, from root to tip.

Four quivered with her touch, his hands gripping her thighs before sliding under the soft fabric of her dress. His fingers danced along the edge of her panties as his thumb stroked the damp material covering her center. "You're so wet for me," he murmured. "I want to spread you and lick you until you beg for my cock."

"I'll beg now," Tris trembled out as she continued her stroking motion. "If that's what you want." She pressed forward again with her hips, trapping his hand between her and his dick, seeking her own friction as she pumped him. His fingers slid beneath the edge of her panties, giving her that extra pressure she desired. "I've barely touched you and you're ready for me."

"I can't help it," she whispered.

"I like it," he hitched back as he pushed his thumb into her. Tris instinctively clenched around him, holding him in place as she rocked more.

"More," she breathed out. "I need more."

"Then take it, Tris. Take what you need."

Tris smiled dazzlingly at him. He would give her everything she needed, she knew that, but to hear it in his voice made her heart beat triple time. She pulled at his bow tie, unfastening the knot it had taken her ten minutes to tie earlier that night, then pushed on the dress shirt buttons, popping them out of their holes so she could separate the panels of soft silk. Her fingertips raked through the dark hair of his chest, constantly rocking against him: his thumb, his hand, his dick. Her thumb grazed the head, spreading the moisture that had collected, as she rose to her knees, her lips finding his blindly. He reluctantly removed his thumb from the warm confines of her body, grinning against her lips at her soft whimper of disappointment. Then his hands were on her panties, pushing them from her hips. Frustrated that he wouldn't be able to remove them without her moving, he fisted his fingers around the delicate lace and pulled. With a loud tear they fell away and he balled them up and pushed them into his pocket. The sound was abrupt and the violent action of it sent a ripple of desire soaring through her body.

His erection brushed between her legs and they both whimpered. Tris again gripped his erection and guided him to her, positioning him where she needed him and took the tip into her. She rocked again, feeling the delicious sensation of his width pushed against her as he slipped further in. Still, she didn't sink down, didn't give them both what they desperately wanted. Not yet. Her thighs quivered as she forced herself to stay where she was, her inner muscles fluttering around his dick, and she grinned when his breathing stuttered. "Fuck, Tris."

"I know." She took his lips against, frantic with need, her passion for him, her lust and her desire. His hands tightened on her hips and with that, still kissing him, she lowered, enveloping him completely with her aching body. This is what she'd been thinking about all night.

Eye-to-eye they smiled at each other, only inches apart and connected in more ways than just their bodies. She felt every inch of him touch every inch of her, inside and out. She was so deliciously stretched it bordered on being too much. But in that second, she knew it would never be too much. She closed her eyes as she started to rock again, slowly, languidly, her eyes intent on his. He was so beautiful sprawled beneath her in his elegant tuxedo, his powerful body straining with the primal need to mate, to fuck her. It was so erotic her muscles clenched involuntarily around him.

"Oh shit," he bit out, his teeth grinding.

Sweat misted on their skin. Four felt the cool material of his shirt cling to him uncomfortably, but he didn't care. He eased her back slightly, altering her position, urging her to lean back slightly and she moved with him, opening herself more to him, accepting him however he wanted her. She started to move quicker, but he stopped her. "Slow," he warned with a slightly authoritative voice that sent a wave of lust pulsing through her.

She eased up, again moving at a leisurely pace, their eyes locking as the pleasure spread from where their bodies connected. Again, she felt it in every cell in her body and knew, from the look in his eyes, that he felt exactly the same. Four lifted a hand to cup a breast, the soft fabric of her dress making the caress more erotic somehow, and his thumb brushed lightly over her nipple, erect from her arousal. Unable to resist, he closed his lips around the nub of flesh, licking and sucking hard through the fabric.

"Fuck," Tris hissed out, her head falling back as she wove her fingers into his hair, holding him to her, demanding more. Four's hand wound around her body, his fingers gripping the flesh of her bottom and manipulating her movement with his strong touch. In Tris' mind she could see them, see the erotic picture they made, almost fully clothed but so intimately mating. "Oh god," she cried out. "I need more, Tobias, I need…to… move."

"You are moving," he answered, his lips moving against her breast and nipple as she still hadn't let his head move.

"Fuck," she breathed out, half annoyed at his answer and her nails scratched against his scalp. He knew what she needed and he was deliberately keeping her from reaching her goal, her orgasm. He lifted his head, pushed back against her easily as he pressed his chest to hers. One arm moved to wrap around her waist, the other hand dipped low to toy with her clit, and his eyes stared into hers once more. "Have at it, Blondie."

Tris didn't need to be told twice and, using his shoulders for leverage she moved frantically, her body taking everything she could from his, and he gladly let her.

Wild for him, she pressed her mouth to his, her fingers gripping the sweat-damp roots of his hair. She kissed him and rocked her hips, riding the maddening circle of this thumb, feeling the orgasm building with every slide of his long, thick penis. She lost her mind somewhere along the way, primitive instinct taking over until her body was completely in charge. She couldn't focus on anything but the driving urge to fuck, the ferocious need to ride his cock until the tension burst. "It's so good," she muttered. "It's too good."

Using both hands, Four commanded her rhythm, tilting her into an angle that had the crown of his cock rubbing a tender, aching spot deep inside her. She tightened and shook, realizing she was going to come from that, from the expert thrust of him inside her. "Tobias."

He captured her by the nape of her neck as the orgasm exploded through her, starting with the ecstatic spasms of her core and radiating outward until she was trembling all over. Four watched her fall apart, holding her gaze. Possessed by his stare, she moaned as her body jerked with every pulse of pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he growled as he pounded his hips up into her, yanking her still trembling hips down to meet his punishing pace, bottoming out with every deep thrust. She watched him avidly, needing to see it when he fell over the edge. His eyes were wild with need, his gorgeous face ravaged with his need to climax. With her name on his lips, he came, his seed exploding within her as his body shook when the orgasm tore into him. "Tris," he whispered again, collapsing into her and wrapping his arms around her, crushing her to him, pressing his damp face into the curve of her neck.

"Hot damn," was all she could say as she struggled to maintain her own breath.

…


End file.
